


Royal Protection

by Ankaree



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankaree/pseuds/Ankaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is the personal assistant and media consultant to his step-brother, Prince Alvaro Badran of Andorra. When the prince's life is threatened while on a royal tour of the United States, a Special Forces soldier is brought in to impersonate him. Blair is given the task of turning Captain James Ellison into a double for the prince, but after only one conversation, Blair has his doubts about transforming the rugged, hard-headed solider into nobility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royal Protection

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the novel Prince Joe by Suzanne Brockmann. Also, I borrowed some characters from the television series The Unit. They do not belong to me, but I did have fun playing with them.

_Los Angeles, California_

News cameras from all the major networks were rolling as Alvaro Badran, Crown Prince of Andorra, walked through the airport doors of LAX and into the bright sunlight. The ambassadors, embassy aides and politicians, who had been anxiously awaiting the prince's arrival, moved forward to offer their greetings, and the prince paused for a moment, taking time to smile and wave to the cameras.

Blair Sandburg, professional image and media-consultant, released a small sigh of relief. So far, Prince Badran was following his instructions to the letter. But Blair didn't allow himself the luxury to relax. The day wasn't over yet. And he knew Alvaro Badran very well. The man was a perfectionist. There was no guarantee that the prince, who happened to be Blair's step-brother, was going to be at all satisfied by what he saw on tonight's evening news.

This was the first day of the Royal Tour of the United States, and Blair was happy to see the prince was looking his best -- oozing charm and royal manners, with just enough blue-blooded arrogance thrown in to captivate the royalty-crazed American public. With a smile, Blair watched as Alvaro remembered to gaze directly into the cameras, keeping his eye movements steady and his chin slightly lowered. He was giving the public exactly what they wanted -- a perfect picture of a handsome, gracious, enigmatic, fairy-tale European prince. And to add to the allure, the charming prince was a bachelor as well. And if Blair understood Americans -- and he did since he was born here and had lived in the U.S. up until his twenty-first birthday -- there would be millions of American women watching the evening news tonight and dreaming of becoming a princess.

There was nothing like a little fairy-tale excitement among the public to boost relations between two governments. _Yeah,_ Blair thought. _That, and the recently discovered oil that lay beneath Andorra's dark, rich soil._

As Blair observed Alvaro, he noticed the prince wasn't the only one playing up to the news media this morning. United States Senator Frank Kinsley was flashing gleaming white teeth in a smile that was so false and so clearly aimed at the reporters that it made Blair want to burst out laughing.

But Blair held back the laugher that threatened to escape, because if he'd learned one thing living amongst royalty for the past five years, it was that diplomats, high government officials, and royalty in particular, took themselves _very_ seriously.

Moving through the crowd of assistants, aides and advisors that made up the royal entourage, Blair came up behind the prince, stopping a respectful distance away. Looking over Alvaro's left shoulder, he listened as Senator Kinsley bid his greetings.

"Your Highness, on behalf of the United States Government, I'd like to welcome you to our fair country." Kinsley held out his hand, and Prince Badran shook it in one smooth, elegant motion.

"I greet you with the timeless honor of my country," Alvaro formally responded in his deep unique accent -- a mixture of British, Greek and French. "I look forward to continuing our work in the coming year to enhance our countries' friendship and cooperation."

When Kinsley continued to speak, Blair let his attention wander. He could see himself in the reflective glass of the airport's windows. With his long, curly-brown hair neatly pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, he looked calm and relaxed in his light blue silk shirt, blue-patterned tie and navy pants. It was all an illusion though. He felt apart from the serene appearance looking back at him. His body was vibrating with nervous energy, a condition brought on by the stress of knowing that if Alvaro didn't follow his advice and instructions and ended up looking bad on camera, Blair would be the one who'd get the blame. 

Blair had been hired as Alvaro's personal consultant, not because his mother had married the widowed King of Andorra, but because he was good at what he did.

Blair had attended Rainier University in Washington State at the young age of sixteen, where he studied Media, Presentation and Image Development for three years. After he received his degree, Blair started his own consulting company, which quickly flourished into a successful business. He held seminars and traveled the country, working with businesses to help train their employees in media, presentation, public speaking and crisis communication skills.

Then, one week shy of his twenty-first birthday, his mother had called with the joyous news that she going to marry. Blair knew she had met someone during her travels through Europe, but he was shocked speechless to learn that the man she had fallen in love with and was to wed was a king.

She had begged him to attend the wedding and with great excitement, he'd readily agreed. His plan had been to take a two week vacation, doing his own sight-seeing tour of Europe once the wedding was over. Little did he know it would be a life-altering trip.

A month after his mother's phone call, Blair arrived on the European island of Andorra. Situated between Greece and Turkey in the middle of the Aegean Sea, the beautiful, picturesque country, with its friendly people and easy way of life, stole Blair's heart. And it didn't take long for him to decide to make Andorra his home. Soon after making his move from one continent to another, Blair's consulting business was off and running once again. 

Then, at the beginning of this year, the decision had been made that Prince Alvaro would do a royal tour of the United States to help improve relations between the two countries. Impressed with Blair's success, King Badran was adamant about hiring him as a personal consultant to his high-strung son. Understanding how important the connection was with the U.S., Blair had immediately agreed and began to teach the prince how to appear calm and relaxed while under the watchful eyes of the television news cameras. 

Working so closely with the prince, it didn't take Blair long to see beneath his façade of charm and social skills. For as much as the man was princely in his looks and appearance, he was also arrogant, spoiled, rude, demanding and often irrational. To add to that, Alvaro was an extremely impatient, short-tempered man, who was used to getting his own way. Quite often Alvaro had made it known that he didn't particularly like his younger stepbrother, and Blair could say the feeling was mutual. Although there were many times he wanted to throw in the towel and walk away, Blair had made a promise to the king not to let Alvaro ruin the tour. He admired King Badran, who was the exact opposite of his son, and they had become close over the last five years. Blair now thought of him as the father he never had, so he was determined that no matter how difficult it was to work with the prince, he would not let the king down.

Now here they were, the first day of the Royal tour and so far, Alvaro was doing a good job. But it was still way too early for Blair to let himself feel at all satisfied. It was his job to make sure the prince continued to look and sound good. Oh, Alvaro knew social etiquette, Blair would give him that much. The prince was in his element when it came to ceremonies, parties and other social posturing, and he was well versed in activities that most people would expect from royalty, such as horseback riding, polo, fencing, and both downhill and water skiing, to name a few. Alvaro loved fashion and kept up with the latest in men's styles from around the world. He was also pampered beyond belief and had countless aides and advisers who would lavish attention upon him and provide him with his most trivial desires.

As Blair continued to watch, Alvaro shook the hands of the U.S. officials. Upon each person, he bestowed a charming smile, and Blair swore he could actually hear the news cameras zooming in for a close-up shot. He was happy to see that Alvaro was doing exactly as Blair had taught him by gazing directly into the cameras and letting his smile broaden. Blair had to admit, spoiled or not, the prince was a good-looking man. He was every woman's fantasy, with his muscular, fit body, and long wavy black hair, which was cut precisely at shoulder length. His face was rugged, his jaw square and his nose strong and masculine. But the feature that captured most people's attention upon first meeting the prince was his eyes. They were the color of a clear blue sky, intense and breathtaking, and were framed by sinfully long dark lashes.

The sound of the military band playing the Andorrian national anthem brought Blair out of his thoughts. He was turning his attention back to Alvaro when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of light coming from the rooftop of the building across the street. As a security measure, all buildings in the surrounding area were supposed to be clear. Blair looked up, and with a surge of disbelief, realized the flash he'd seen was the sunlight bouncing off the scope of a rifle -- a rifle which just happened to be aimed in their direction.

"Gun!" Blair yelled, pointing at the roof. Without any thought for his own safety, he ran toward Alvaro, grabbed him by the arm and yanked him down to the ground. As the sound of the shot rang out, Blair and the prince were immediately surrounded by security men. Hands pulled at Blair, and in an instant, he was jerked to his feet with his head firmly held down, then he and Alvaro were rushed inside the airport into a secured room.

***

Upon walking into the hotel conference room, it was perfectly clear to Blair the meeting had been going on for quite some time. There were dark-suited men standing watchful and alert at all the doors and windows, and Blair knew exactly who they were. High security agents from the Federal Security Intelligence Agency (FedSec), who had been brought in to guard the prince. Prince Badran sat at the head of the large oak table, surrounded by his aides and advisors, while Senator Kinsley was seated at the opposite end. The rest of the people at the table consisted of Agent Zachary Moreno, the head of security for FedSec, Robert Young, the U.S. ambassador to Andorra, as well as two other diplomats and several men whom Blair didn't recognize.

"Ah, Mr. Sandburg. You have finally arrived. Be seated," Alvaro commanded, his face devoid of expression. He waved toward the only empty chair and waited until Blair was seated before he continued. "I have an idea, but it cannot be done without your cooperation."

Blair gazed steadily at the prince. They hadn't seen each other since Alvaro had been whisked away from the airport by the FedSec agents. Prior to that, as they'd sat waiting in the secured room, Alvaro hadn't uttered one word of thanks to Blair for saving his life, and as far as Blair could see, the man had no intention of doing so now. After all, he was working for the prince, therefore that made Blair a servant. In Alvaro's mind, he expected Blair to save him, which meant there was no need for gratitude. Blair wasn't a servant though; they were considered family, even if it wasn't through blood, but Alvaro didn't see it that way and even went so far as to insist that Blair address him as _Your Highness._

"There is a man. An American," the prince announced. "He is my double. It is my idea for him to take my place for the remaining course of the Royal tour, thus ensuring my safety." 

Sitting forward in his seat, Blair looked across the table at Zachary Moreno. "Is Prince Badran's security still an issue? I thought the gunman was captured."

"I'm afraid he wasn't," Agent Moreno replied. "And my agency has reason to believe the terrorists will-"

"Whoa! Wait a second. Terrorists?" Blair looked from Moreno to Alvaro and back again.

"Yes, Mr. Sandburg." Moreno nodded. "And we believe these terrorists will make another attempt on the prince's life."

"At least FedSec has identified the shooter," Senator Kinsley spoke up. "He's a well-known assassin for a South American terrorist organization."

With a frown, Blair held up his hand. "Hold on. Why would a terrorist from South America want to kill the Crowned Prince of Andorra?"

"Quite possibly in retaliation for Andorra's new alliance with the United States," Moreno explained. "We know from experience that these types of organizations are very determined and don't give up easily. No matter how much we beef up security, they will try again. What we need is to find a solution to this problem."

"Well, that's easy. Cancel the tour," Blair stated. He glanced at Alvaro, and the man did not look at all happy.

"No can do," the senator answered. "There is too much riding on the publicity from this event. You know as well as I do that Andorra needs the funding from the U.S. to get their oil wells up and running."

"Yes, I do," Blair agreed.

"And," Kinsley continued, "if this group of terrorists are who we think they are, we want them, and we can use this opportunity to nab them."

"But if you know for sure that there will be another assassination attempt, how can you risk putting the prince in so much danger?" Blair asked.

"I have no intention of placing myself in harms' way," Prince Alvaro said, giving Blair an icy stare.

"The prince will remain here in Los Angeles," Agent Moreno addressed Blair. "We will place him in a safe house until the danger has been eliminated. The tour, however, will continue as planned, with this double taking Prince Badran's place."

"This man," Kinsley turned to the prince. "What was his name, Your Highness?"

"I do not remember." Alvaro shrugged -- a slow, eloquent gesture. "Jack… Joe… Jim… Yes. Jim. Jim…" He flicked his hand through the air. "…something."

"Jim something," Blair repeated, exchanging an exasperated look with Zachary Moreno. "Your Highness, there must be something else you remember about him."

"Ah, yes." Alvaro gave a refined nod. "He was a soldier. An American soldier."

Ambassador Young leaned forward. "Excuse me, Your Excellency, but when did you meet this soldier?"

"He was one of the men who assisted in my rescue from the embassy in Kuwait," the prince replied.

"That was four years ago," Blair spoke to everyone sitting around the table then turned to Alvaro. "When you returned home from Kuwait, you never mentioned meeting someone who looked like you."

"It was of no importance." Alvaro looked away, dismissing Blair.

"If I remember correctly," the ambassador said to Kinsley, "only one team participated in that rescue mission. A Special Forces team."

"Special Forces?" Blair asked, sitting up.

"Yes. To be exact, it was the Alpha Squad from Special Forces Team Seven," Ambassador Young told him. "They are one of the most elite covert-ops forces in the world. They are especially trained to operate anywhere and under any situation. If this soldier really is with Alpha Squad, then standing in for the prince's double will be like a walk in the park for him."

"This man was, however, quite unbearably lower class," Prince Alvaro said portentously, sweeping imaginary lint from the arm of his expensive suit-jacket before looking at Blair. "You will teach this… Jim to look and act exactly as I do."

"Your time will be limited, Mr. Sandburg," Senator Kinsley said. "You will have three days at the most to turn this soldier into a prince. We will announce that Prince Badran has come down with the flu and will keep up public interest by feeding daily health reports to the media. Time will be of the essence because if we wait too long, the prince will no longer be newsworthy, and we can't let that happen."

_Three days? He had to turn a tough, military soldier into royalty within three days?_ Blair shook his head in disbelief. _Were they fucking kidding? It was impossible!_

He watched as Ambassador Young pulled out his cell phone and began to track down the mysterious soldier named Jim. A few moments later, Young hung up, a huge smile spreading across his face. "I believe we've found our man. His name is Captain James Joseph Ellison," he announced while flipping open his laptop computer. "They're sending me his ID photo right now." After punching a few buttons on the keyboard, Young stopped all movement, all except for the widening of his eyes. Quickly, he turned the laptop around so the rest of the table could see the screen.

"Oh, my God," Blair leaned forward to get a closer look. "The resemblance is… unbelievable!"

The man in the picture was wearing a pair of army fatigues, with a sub-machine gun slung over one shoulder. The top two buttons of his dark-green shirt were undone and the sleeves were rolled half way up his arms. His hair was brown, short and a little on the scruffy side. The camera had caught him grinning with good humor, and Blair noticed the sharp intelligence shining in the sky-blue eyes. He had the same nose and cheekbone structure as Alvaro. Same jaw line and chin. The only other difference that Blair could pick out besides the short brown hair, was the soldier looked both bigger and taller than the prince.

Blair knew he had his work cut out for him though, because no matter how much this man might look like Alvaro, he was far from being a polished, sophisticated prince. Blair was going to have to teach this rough-edged soldier how to sit, stand, walk and talk exactly like Alvaro. With a roll of his eyes, he wondered what the hell he'd gotten himself into, but with a deep sigh, he agreed to the deception. The table immediately launched into a discussion of the whys and wherefores, and Blair was forgotten like so much excess baggage.

***

_Cascade, Washington_

Captain Jim Ellison leaned back in his deck chair, rested his feet on top of the beer cooler and tilted his face up into the warm sun. It felt great to be on leave. He and his team had not had a day off in months, and they had finally been granted seven days of down time. Seven glorious days to be spent in the great outdoors with nothing more to do except fish, drink beer, and relax.

At the end of the pier, wearing the same type of weekend grunge clothing similar to his own cut off fatigues and ragged t-shirt, 1st Lieutenant Charles "Charlie" Grey and 2nd Lieutenant Mack Gerhardt were making bets on who was going to catch the largest fish. Their voices were as familiar to Jim as breathing. Closing his eyes, he let the lull of their conversation relax him further. 

He had known both men for eight years now. They had trained together, along with four other men, to become Special Forces Team Seven's number one team -- Alpha Squad 731. However, Jim, Charlie and Mack were the only surviving members from that original team. Five years ago, during an anti-insurgence operation in Peru, their helicopter had been shot down by militant forces while en route to their landing zone. Out of the nine men on board the Huey that day -- seven team members and two chopper crew -- only the three of them had survived. 

Besides the bad cuts, bruises and burns sustained by the crash, Mack had broken a leg, Charlie, an arm, and Jim had suffered a serious concussion. Between them, it had taken two days to bury their comrades and crew members. On their third day in the jungle, a native tribe called the Chopec had approached them.

Prior to their mission, Jim had been taught Quechua, one of the two official languages spoken in Peru, the other being Spanish which Jim already knew. With his knowledge of Quechua, he was able to communicate with the Chopec, who insisted that they take Jim and his two friends to their village to heal. Knowing their injuries needed to be attended to, he had agreed.

It was there in that quiet, peaceful village that five of Jim's senses -- sight, sound, taste, smell, touch -- began to act up. As the days had progressed and his wounds began to heal, his senses became more and more unsteady and unpredictable. There were days he swore he was going crazy, and he knew Charlie and Mack were worried. Even though they did their best to hide their emotions, Jim never missed their concerned glances or the anxious looks that crossed their faces when they didn't think he'd notice.

One day, the tribe's shaman, Incacha, invited Jim to his hut. There, he learned exactly what was happening to him. He learned exactly what he was -- a Sentinel. A man with five heightened senses. At first Jim was in denial, was pissed off. He didn't want the damn overactive senses. He wanted to be normal again. Incacha, being a gentle, patient, yet persistent man, was soon guiding Jim and training him how to fine-tune his senses. Through it all, Charlie and Mack were right by Jim's side, ready to help him with his senses in any way they could. 

Eight months later, the three remaining members of Alpha Squad 731 had stepped into another Huey which had flown them to an extraction point where they had then been taken to Lima for debriefing.

"Hey, El!" Charlie's yell brought Jim out of his reverie. "If you want to eat tonight, you're going to have to get off your ass and catch some fish."

"Yeah. If you think we're fishing for you, then you're delusional, my friend," Mack put in.

Jim chuckled, but didn't move. He knew them well enough to know they would catch a couple of fish for him, and probably already had. They had been through a lot together and were pretty much inseparable. Even spent most of their time off together, and that had come as a bit of a surprise to Jim. He was a loner. Always had been. No, that wasn't true, he had been a loner up until the moment he first met these two knuckleheads. They had become fast friends, trusted each other implicitly and were extremely protective of one another, which was probably a few of the reasons why they were still alive. That, and a whole hell of a lot of luck.

Figuring he should at least do a bit of fishing to appear as though he was making an effort, Jim got up from his comfortable chair.

"Grab me a beer, will you, Jim?" Mack asked while reeling in his fishing line.

Charlie turned to Jim and grinned. "Yeah, man, same here." 

"Geez. What did your last slave die of?" Jim complained, hiding his smirk. Flipping open the lid on the cooler, he pulled out three beers and walked toward the end of the pier.

"Nothing," replied Charlie. "He's bringing me my beer right now."

"Ha-ha." Jim flipped him off before he handed over the beers to Mack and slowly stalked toward Charlie.

Charlie quickly put down his fishing rod, held up his hands and began to back away. "Hey, man, it was just a joke."

Lightning quick, Jim pounced on Charlie. Getting the smaller man in a loose headlock, he dragged him over to the edge of the pier. He was just about to toss the laughing man into the water when he felt a push on his back. Losing his balance, they both tumbled over the pier's edge and landed in the lake with a loud splash. A second later they surfaced, totally drenched and spitting up water.

"Thanks for that, Jim." Charlie grinned, vigorously shaking his head, spraying water from his dark wavy brown hair and beard.

"Don't blame me," Jim laughed. "Blame him." He hitched a thumb over his shoulder in Mack's direction. "He pushed us in."

"I'll remember that, Mack." Charlie wagged a finger at him. "I'll get you when you least expect it."

"Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises." Mack smirked back at them.

Laughing and teasing, Jim and Charlie trudged their way out of the water and onto the sandy beach. Jim snatched a couple of towels from the picnic table and tossed one to his wet friend. He was rubbing the towel over his head when a distant sound caught his attention. Pulling the cloth away, Jim tilted his head to the side, stood still and listened. 

"What is it, El?" Charlie asked, coming to stand by Jim's side.

"Chopper," Jim answered. "Headed our way."

"Can you see it?" 

Shading his eyes, Jim dialed up his sight. "No, not yet. It's too far away."

Seconds later the sound of a distant helicopter could be heard echoing across the huge lake. A small black dot soon appeared in the distance, growing larger with each passing second. It was definitely heading directly toward them.

"Are you guys wearing your pagers?" Jim asked. He'd left his next to his chair on the pier, knowing he'd hear it if he was paged.

"Yes, sir." Mack nodded and pulled his beeper out of his pocket. "Mine's clear."

"So is mine," Charlie said.

"Either of you in some kind of trouble I should know about?" Jim shot a quick glance at the two men.

"No, sir," Mack answered.

"Negative." Charlie glanced sideways at Jim. "What about you, Captain?"

Jim shook his head and looked back into the sky, the chopper now taking on a distinct shape. "It's a Comanche." 

"Shit," Mack murmured. "They're definitely in a hurry if they're using that bird."

"One damn big hurry," Jim agreed. They watched as the chopper flew directly overhead, hovered for a second before disappearing behind the house. Raising his voice so he could heard, Jim said, "They landing in the back field."

The three men rushed past the house and into the large, open field where the chopper had landed, its blades still spinning. A military officer jumped out and approached them, saluting when he came to a stop. Jim and his men returned the gesture. 

"Captain James Joseph Ellison?" The officer glanced from one man to the next.

Straightening his shoulders, Jim took one step forward. "Yes?"

"Sorry, sir. Your leave is over," announced the officer.

***

_Los Angeles, California_

Blair entered his hotel room suite, flopped down onto the large comfortable chair and closed his eyes. God, he was exhausted. After the assassination attempt, he had run on sheer adrenaline for close to six hours straight. Once that wore off, he kept himself going with coffee -- lots and lots of strong, black coffee.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Blair stood up with a groan. What he needed now was a nice hot shower and at least four glorious hours of uninterrupted sleep. Stripping off his clothes, Blair staggered into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the shower. Slipping under the spray, he released a long moan of pleasure, the warm water feeling wonderful on his tired body. Quickly, he washed himself, knowing that every minute he spent in the shower was a minute less he'd be able to sleep. And with Captain Ellison due to arrive sometime around midnight, Blair was going to need every second of shut-eye he could get.

Rinsing the last of the shampoo from his hair, Blair shut off the water and toweled himself dry. His white hotel-supplied robe was hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He reached for it but before his fingers touched the material, he froze. 

He distinctly remembered leaving the bathrobe in the other room, on the bed. He’d seen it lying there when he'd walked through the bedroom. _Then how the heck did it get in here?_ he wondered, puzzled. _Unless… no, there couldn't be._

A husky voice coming from the other side of the bathroom door made Blair jump. "No… you got it right. You are _not_ alone in here."

With his heart racing, Blair lunged for the door, slamming it shut and quickly flipping the lock.

"I figured you wouldn't know that I was in your room," the voice continued loudly while Blair pulled on the white robe. "And you probably wouldn't appreciate coming out of the bathroom wearing just a towel… or nothing at all, so I put your robe on the back of the door."

"Who the hell are you?" Blair demanded.

"I might ask the same question," the voice countered. "I was brought here and told to wait, so I waited. My much-needed leave was canceled. I was hustled here like some FedEx package, only nobody seems to have any explanation as to why or even who I'm waiting to see. I didn't even know my insertion point until my jet landed at the LA Air Force Base. And as long as I'm complaining, I might as well tell you I'm tired and hungry, and my clothes, which got wet earlier today, are still damp -- a situation that makes me very annoyed. And I would damn near do anything to get into that shower you just vacated."

"Captain Ellison?" Blair asked

"You got it, Chief."

Blair moved to unlock the door then paused. "Wait a minute. How do I know you are who you say you are?"

A small groan could be heard through the door. "Open the door and find out."

"What's your first name?"

"Jim. Well, it’s James, but most people call me Jim."

"Middle name?"

"Joseph. Now that you know my name and rank, you want my serial number, too?"

"No, that'll do." Blair swung the door open and looked at the man standing in the middle of the room.

"According to the name tag on the suitcase, you must be Blair Sandburg." Jim stepped forward, thrust out his hand, and Blair shook it. 

He’d been right about Captain Ellison's size. The man was a good two inches taller than Prince Alvaro and outweighed him in sheer muscle by a solid thirty pounds. His hair was cut much shorter, and he had at least a two days' growth of beard which darkened his handsome face.

Ellison didn't look exactly like the prince as Blair had first thought when he'd seen the photograph. On closer inspection of the man's face, he could tell the captain's nose was slightly different. It looked as though it had been broken, probably more than once. And if it was possible, Ellison's cheekbones were even more exotic looking than Alvaro's. His chin was a little more square, more stubborn, and his eyes were just a shade lighter. 

But those differences -- even the size difference between the two men -- were very subtle. They wouldn't be noticed by someone who didn't know Prince Alvaro very well. 

Blair couldn't stop a small grimace when he noticed the t-shirt with its sleeves torn off and the ragged shorts, which Blair was sure had once been a pair of army fatigues. Ellison also looked like he could use a shower and for some reason, he smelled musty… sort of like lake water.

Blair's gaze roamed over the muscular body before coming to rest on Jim's face. He was looking at Blair, examining him in as much the same way as he was looking at Jim. 

"What?" Jim asked with a scowl, defensiveness tingeing his voice. "I'm not what you expected?"

Blair couldn't deny it and gave a slight nod. "Sorry. Guess I expected you to arrive wearing a dress uniform, all stiff and starched and perfectly military."

Jim glared at him for a second before saying, "Sandburg, do you mind telling me exactly what I'm doing here."

With a frown, Blair asked, "No one's told you anything?"

"No, not a damn thing." Jim leaned against the bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm here in LA without the rest of my team, and I want to know why."

Blair brushed past Jim and went into the hotel suite's living room. Picking up a legal pad from the coffee table, he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "You were supposed to be met by a General Hank Landry."

Jim shrugged and shook his head, closely watching Blair. The intensity of that gaze sent a shiver through him. God, but the man was handsome. Despite his slightly unkempt look and scowling expression, Jim was almost impossibly good-looking. And he was nearly dripping with an unconscious masculinity that Alvaro didn't even begin to possess. If Blair was the type who went for that untamed, rough-hewn kind of man, he could easily fall for Jim. But that dangerous bad-boy persona didn't do a thing for him. Nope, he wasn't at all attracted by those steel-hard biceps and broad shoulders, or the rough five o'clock shadow, the deep tan, the heart-melting smile, or the incredible ice-blue eyes. Nope. Definitely. Positively. Not.

Suddenly Blair felt very naked, which, of course, he was, underneath his robe. "Give me a minute to get dressed. Then I'll explain why you're here." As he moved toward the bedroom, he was aware that Jim was still watching him right up until the moment he closed the door behind him.

Pulling on clean clothing, Blair thought a little more about Jim and the work that lay ahead in order to transform a captain into a prince.

For sure they'd have to work on posture. Captain Ellison, Blair noted, tended to slouch ever so slightly, whereas Prince Alvaro stood ramrod straight. And their walk was different also. Jim walked with a kind of relaxed swagger that was utterly un-princely. Blair groaned, running fingers through his damp hair. How in the hell was he going to teach this rough soldier to stand, sit up straight and walk in that peculiar, stiff, princely gait that Alvaro had perfected?

And something needed to be done with Jim's hair. It was entirely too short and the color was all wrong. They could have a wig made, or better yet, dye his hair black and put in extensions. Yes, that would work. Provided Ellison would sit still long enough to have them attached. 

He wasn't sure what he was going to do about Jim's accent either -- or lack thereof. As much as they looked alike, they spoke and sounded totally different. Maybe with a little ingenuity, with the right scheduling and planning, Jim wouldn't have to utter a word. 

Yes, he could definitely make this work… he hoped.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Blair opened the door and went back into the living room -- and stopped short. The room had suddenly become extremely crowded.

Senator Kinsley, Ambassador Young, Agent Zachary Monero, half a dozen FedSec security agents, an older man wearing a military dress uniform covered with medals and Prince Alvaro along with his entire entourage, all stood staring at Jim Ellison. Blair could not miss the tension that permeated the room.

The man in uniform was the first person to speak up. "Nice to see you dressed for the occasion, Jimmy," he said with a chuckle.

All tension left Jim's face, and he grinned. A genuine, sincere smile that warmed his face and touched his eyes. "Good to see you too, General." Then his smile faded when he looked at Prince Alvaro.

Blair glanced at the two men, and he couldn't help but notice that Alvaro was staring at Jim as if he were a rat that had just crawled out of the sewer.

"Well," Jim said. "If it isn't my evil twin."

Blair couldn't help it, he laughed out loud and had to bite down on his bottom lip to shut himself up. Much to his relief, no one had noticed. No one except Jim, who glanced over at him in surprise.

"Excuse me, soldier. Do you know to whom you're speaking?" Kinsley said sternly to Jim.

"Damn straight I know who I'm talking to," Jim replied tightly. "I never forget a face -- especially when I see it every morning in the mirror. My team pulled this bastard's sorry ass out of Kuwait." He turned back to Alvaro. "Keeping free and clear of war zones these days, Al?"

Everyone in the room drew in a shocked gasp, all except for Jim and the still grinning general.

Prince Alvaro's face turned several shades of red. "How dare you," he huffed.

Jim straightened and took two steps toward Alvaro. "How dare _you_ put yourself into a situation where my men had to risk their lives to pull you back out," Jim practically snarled. "One of my men spent months in intensive care because of you. You're damned lucky he didn't die." The deadly look in Jim's eyes was enough to make even the bravest man cringe in fear.

Alvaro's eyes grew wide, and to hide the fact that his hands were shaking, he clasped them together behind his back. "This _barbarian_ is far more impertinent than I remember. We cannot risk sending him into public masquerading as me. He would embarrass my heritage, my entire country. Send him back to whatever rock he has crawled out from under." He flicked his hand in the air, dismissing Jim and turned away. "There is no other option. Cancel the tour." 

With a humph, the prince stalked toward the door, but Senator Kinsley rushed to Alvaro's side before he could reach it.

"Your Highness," Kinsley said smoothly. "If you're serious about obtaining the funding for the oil wells-"

"This man, he is _un imbecile_ ," Alvaro loudly proclaimed. "Even Mr. Sandburg cannot turn such a brute into a prince."

***

Across the room, Jim watched as Blair hurried over to the prince and Senator Kinsley and began talking in lowered voices.

"You always did know how to liven up a party, Jimmy."

Jim turned to see General Landry smiling at him. He gave the older man a crisp salute.

"Cut the crap, Ellison," Landry said. "Since when did you start saluting?" Grinning, Jim reached out and shook the general's outstretched hand. "You haven't changed a bit," he announced, clapped Jim on the shoulder then wrinkled his nose. "You smell like a bog, son. What hole did we drag you out of?"

"I was on leave with Charlie and Mac at my cabin. Ended up falling in the lake. The boys in the chopper didn't give me a chance to take a shower or pick up a change of clothes."

"Yeah." The general's eyes twinkled. "We were in kind of a hurry to get you out here."

"No kidding," Jim replied. "I take it I'm here to do some kind of favor for him." With his chin, Jim gestured toward the prince, who was still in a deep discussion with Kinsley and Sandburg.

"Something tells me you're not happy with the idea of doing Prince Badran any favors."

"Damn straight, sir. That idiot nearly got Hector Williams killed. We were extracting from Kuwait with a squad of enemy soldiers on our tail. Williams took a direct hit and almost bled to death. His knee was nearly destroyed. The kid's in a wheelchair now and is still fighting damn hard to get out of it." Jim took a deep breath to release some of his tension. "We had reached the extraction point when Prince Charming over there refused to board the chopper. We finally ended up tossing his ass inside, but it was enough of a delay to put us into the enemy's firing range and that's when Williams was hit. You want to know why he refused to get into the chopper?" 

When the General nodded, Jim continued, "Because His Royal Pain-In-The-Ass didn't think the bird was luxurious enough. The bastard nearly got us all killed because the inside of a military attack helicopter wasn't painted in the Andorrian royal colors." Jim looked steadily at General Landry. "There's nothing you can say that will make me do any favors for that idiot. So, if you want to reprimand me, sir, go right ahead."

"That won't be necessary. And you might just change your mind when you hear what I have to say."

Jim frowned. "What's going on?"

"This morning there was an assassination attempt made on Prince Badran."

"Ah, now it all suddenly makes sense," Jim said, sitting down on the sofa. "You want me to play dress-up in Prince Charming's clothes, which is the equivalent of having a giant target painted on my back, so that the United States will have more oil. Am I right?"

"That's part of it, but there's something else." The general sat down next to Jim. "Something that would be of interest to you."

"What?" Jim asked, his interest suddenly piqued.

"My sources over at Intelligence have hinted that the assassins who are after Prince Badran are the same militant terrorist group who shot down your chopper in the Peruvian jungle."

Jim shot to his feet, and the general followed. "Vargas is involved in this?" he hissed angrily and Landry nodded.

Vargas Prada Matos. The man Jim despised more than anyone on this planet. Three years ago, with the help of his good friend, General Landry, Jim had learned both the name of the terrorist group, and its leader who had shot down his helicopter. It was Vargas who had given the order to shoot, and Jim held him responsible for the deaths of his men and crew members. He knew one day their paths would cross, and when it did, one of them would not walk away alive.

Jim reined in his anger and said, "I want in, General."

"I had a feeling you would," Landry answered quietly, placing a hand on Jim's arm.

***

It was nearly two in the morning before the planning meeting was finally over. It had been decided that Prince Alvaro would be moved from the hotel to a safe house where he would be guarded by FedSec agents, as well by the Andorrian secret service. Captain Ellison would immediately move into Alvaro's penthouse suite, thus arousing no suspicion from the hotel staff or the prince's lesser servants and attendants, who would not be told of the switch.

It had taken a lot of convincing, but Blair was the one who got Alvaro to agree to allow Jim to take his place and now, much to everyone's relief, the prince was gone, quietly whisked away by the security agents.

With the prince out of their hair, they had finally been able to get down to some serious talk and had come up with a plan. The idea was to organize a schedule that would require Jim to have the least amount of contact with diplomats and dignitaries who might recognize that he was an imposter. Times and places were set up where Jim would appear in public, thus providing the assassins with a clear target, but without putting the captain in any more danger than was necessary.

With the meeting finally over, Blair rose wearily from his chair, making his way out of the conference room. Spotting General Landry in the hallway, Blair went over to him.

"Do you think Captain Ellison can pull this off?" Blair asked.

"Trust me, son. If there's anyone who can do it, it's Ellison."

"I hope you're right." Blair sighed tiredly. "A lot is riding on this tour to work."

"I know there is and so does Jim. He won't let you down." The general guided Blair over to a padded bench in the hallway, and they both sat down. The next time Landry spoke, his voice was soft and low. "Jim is one of the toughest, smartest, deadliest soldiers in the U.S. military. He is the best of the best and is trained to specialize in unconventional warfare. Captain Ellison once took six men and went behind enemy lines to rescue four civilians who were too stupid to leave Kuwait when they were warned of the coming attacks."

"Prince Alvaro," Blair quietly stated.

"You got it." General Landry smiled before his expression turned serious again. "Jim and his Alpha Squad went in undetected and pulled Alvaro and his three aides out without a single fatality."

"But I don't understand. Why does Jim dislike Alvaro so much?"

"Because once they got to the extraction site where a military helicopter was waiting for them, His Royal Highness refused to get on."

"What? Why not?"

"The chopper wasn't up to his standards. Wasn't luxurious enough."

Blair groaned and shook his head. This news didn't really come as a shock, it sounded exactly like something Alvaro would do. 

"Alpha Squad had to literally pick him up and toss him inside. By then too many valuable seconds had been wasted, and the enemy caught up with them. One of Jim's men was shot, nearly damn well bled to death from his injuries. The bullet shattered the man's leg and to this day, he is unable to walk."

"Oh, my God. I had no idea." Blair put a hand up to his mouth, this time stunned by what he heard. "I understand now."

"I don't think you do. At least not yet, but you will. And the next time Jimmy talks to you, listen to him, and I mean _really_ listen."

"I will, sir." Blair got to his feet as the general stood.

"Good." Landry clamped a large hand on Blair's shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "I don't know about you, son, but I could use some shut-eye."

"Oh, man, could I, but I need to go check on Captain Ellison first. He's getting the extensions put in his hair."

General Landry laughed. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks." Blair grinned.

***

Sitting in the hairdresser's portable chair, Jim looked at himself in the hotel room mirror. He looked… weird. It felt strange seeing himself with long hair. A few times he'd had to grow it out for a special ops mission, but never this long and, of course, the color was black instead of his usual light brown. He didn't like long hair on himself. Much preferred wearing it short. Not the military-regulation buzz-cut short, just a comfortable length that was easy to deal with.

The door to the penthouse opened with a quiet click, and Jim immediately tensed. He looked up and turned his head, hearing the hairdresser release a frustrated sigh. Jim didn't care how much he annoyed her, he was too well-trained to let someone enter a room without checking them out first. Especially not while he was looking more and more like the man who was an assassin's target.

Before the person walked into the large bathroom suite, Jim knew who it was. When they'd first met, he'd already used his senses to catalogue the other man's heartbeat and scent. Blair Sandburg.

Jim waited until Sandburg entered the room before turning around again, much to the hairdresser's delight. Looking back into the mirror, he felt the tension leave his body, and he began to relax. But something felt different. It was as if all his senses had gone on alert. As if they'd suddenly woken up. The colors in the room seemed sharper, clearer. Sounds seemed louder. And his sense of smell heightened until he could pick up the subtle fragrance of Blair's aftershave, along with the man's own musky aroma. Jim liked the scent -- liked it very much -- and he felt a shot of desire flow through him. 

In the mirror, Jim watched as Blair approached, coming to a stop behind him and glanced up, briefly meeting dark-blue eyes. From the look on Blair's face, Jim knew the current of awareness and attraction that had surged through him had gone through Blair as well. Blair looked just as surprised as Jim felt.

"God, you look… amazing." Blair studied Jim's face in the mirror. "The resemblance between you and Prince Alvaro is incredible."

Jim felt like saying that Blair looked pretty damn good himself, but he held his tongue and instead said, "About my clothes…"

"What about them?"

"I don't have any." Jim grinned. "Never got a chance to grab anything when the chopper picked me up."

"Don't worry about that, Your Highness," Blair replied. "A tailor will be arriving soon, and he'll provide you with all the clothing you'll need for the next couple of weeks."

"Whoa, whoa." Jim twisted around to face Blair and held up a hand. "Back up a sec, Sandburg. What did you just say?"

Blair frowned slightly, giving Jim an odd look. "Umm… the tailor will be arriving-"

"No, not that. The other part." When Blair stared at him with a blank expression, Jim enlightened him by saying, "You called me 'Your Highness'."

"Yes. I did."

"Excuse me," the hairdresser interrupted. "I'm all done here."

"Great. Thank you, Miss Pierson." Once the hairdresser had left the suite, Blair continued, "You're going to have to get used to being called Your Highness or Your Excellency. It's the way you're going to be addressed from now on."

Jim pushed himself out of the chair. "Even by you?"

"Yes, even by me. Come on. Let's go sit down." Not waiting for an answer, Blair left the bathroom, and Jim had no choice but to follow. Moving into the living room, Blair sat down in one of the easy chairs, gesturing for Jim to sit in the one across from him. "If we intend to pull off this charade, then we have to stay in character."

"Yes. I agree," Jim said, sitting down. "If we don't, the assassin will know that something's not right."

The phone rang, and after excusing himself, Blair went to answer it. While he talked, Jim took the time to study the other man. He was very attracted to Blair, and Jim was pretty sure the feeling was mutual; he saw it every time Blair glanced his way. But Jim also saw wariness in those blue eyes. Perhaps even fear. Almost as though Blair didn't want to be attracted to him. By the way Sandburg dressed in his expensive clothing, and by the proper way he acted and spoke, Jim was willing to bet a year's salary that Blair wouldn't want any kind of relationship with a rough and ragged military soldier like himself.

That didn't stop Jim from fantasizing, though. It was so easy to imagine running his fingers through the curly hair. Or pulling the buttons open on that silk shirt to caress the hair-covered chest and pinch the taut nipples. And it was so damn easy to imagine himself pulling Blair into an embrace, their groins pressed together, Blair's finger's undoing the buckle of his belt while Jim took possession his mouth with his tongue…

Jim was so lost in his little fantasy that he never heard Blair approach and he was slightly startled when a hand touched his arm.

"Are you okay, Captain Ellison?" Blair asked, looking a little worried. "I called you a couple of times, but you didn't hear me."

Jim cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm good." Then with a smirk, he added, "Aren't you supposed to call me _'Your Highness'_?"

Blair laughed, and the sound sent tiny little shivers all through Jim's body. "You're right. I apologize. It won't happen again."

Getting to his feet, Jim placed both his hands on Blair's shoulders, enjoying the feel of the warm skin beneath the shirt. "Hey, Chief. Relax. Okay?"

Blair shook off Jim's hands and took a few steps back. "No. It's not okay. We've got two days to perfect this. Two days for you to completely relearn how to walk and talk, sit and stand, and eat. Not to mention you have to memorize every name and face of the aides, ambassadors and government officials with whom Prince Alvaro has become acquainted. On top of that, there are all the rules and protocols you have to learn, along with all of Andorra's customs and traditions."

"You need to stop worrying. I've gone on far tougher missions with way less prep time. Two days to prepare is a piece of cake."

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that and my name is not _'Chief'_ , it's Mr. Sandburg," Blair said sharply. "It's what the prince calls me. You'll need to remember that."

"Fine," Jim said tartly, then added, "Mr. Sandburg."

"Good. That's a start." Blair picked up his briefcase and headed to the door. "The tailor will be here any second. His name is Monsieur Rousseau, and he’s been informed exactly what you’ll need. Once he's done, I suggest you get some sleep since we won't be getting much in the next two days. I'll be back here at six a.m. sharp."

Jim didn't say a word as Blair left the suite, wondering what he had done to piss off the other man. Before he could think about it too deeply, there was a crisp knock on the door, and Jim went to greet the tailor.

***

"And you need to remember to never open the door yourself. You must always let someone else do it for you," Blair explained.

Jim's eyebrows rose while he gazed at Blair from the opposite side of the conference table in the penthouse suite. He took a sip from his coffee cup while continuing to watch Blair. "So, Al never opens the door for anyone?" Jim asked.

"Right. Well… no, that's not true. He would if he were in attendance with a King or Queen." Blair glanced away from those incredible blue eyes that were watching him so intently and took a long drink of his own coffee.

"What does he do when he's alone? Wait until a servant happens to wander by to open the door for him? I'd say that could be rather annoying if he has to use the latrine," Jim said, leaning an elbow on the table.

"Your Highness," Blair said with forced patience. "A prince never leans his elbow on the table."

Jim smiled but didn't move a muscle. He just watched Blair with half-closed eyes that radiated sexuality. They'd been working together all morning and every second of that time, Blair had been aware of Jim. Of the way the other man's gaze would rake over his body, or follow him with this smoldering look in his eyes that made Blair's pulse race in anticipation, which he immediately tried to squelch. On top of everything, he sure didn't need the added distraction, not with a deadline looming over their heads. He needed his mind clear and sharp, not filled with thoughts of taking Captain James Ellison to his bed. 

Blair allowed himself one last brief moment to gaze back at Jim. To the average eye, he might look like Alvaro, but Blair could pick out each and every difference. There was an edge to Jim's good looks. A sharpness and an honesty that Alvaro had never possessed. And Alvaro had never been, nor would he ever be, as handsome as Jim. Blair suddenly felt an unmistakable surge of desire. Never had he been this attracted to another man. He had to look away before he gave in to the impulse to jump across the table and claim those sensual lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

"And just so you know, Your Highness, the bathroom is not called a latrine." Blair folded his hands on top of the table. "Nor is it called a toilet or a john or even a bathroom for that matter. It's a water closet."

Jim smirked. "Couldn't I just call it the Little Prince's Room?"

Blair groaned and dropped his head into his hands, but despite his sense of impending doom, he couldn't help but laugh. God, the man could be so irritating, and Blair didn't know what he was going to do about it. He felt like he'd been wasting his breath trying to explain everything to Jim because no matter what Blair said or did, Jim didn't take anything they were doing seriously.

"You worry too much, Chief," Jim said softly, all teasing gone from his voice. "I'm very good at my job. You need to put a little trust in me."

"And you need to take me a little more seriously." Sitting back up, Blair glared at Jim but noticed that he, of course, was not paying attention. Jim's head was turned to the left with a slight tilt to the right, and there was an odd, unreadable look to his eyes.

"Agent Vickers is here."

"What?" Before Blair could ask how Jim knew that, there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Jim called. 

Sure enough, and much to Blair's amazement, Ron Vickers, one of the FedSec agents, stepped through the doorway. "Excuse me, Captain Ellison," Vickers said politely.

In an instant Jim became alert and was, once again, Mr. Military. He sat up straighter and even looked as though he were paying rapt attention. Blair ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Now why in the hell couldn't he get Jim to pay _him_ that much attention?

"General Landry requests your presence downstairs in the conference room. He would like you to consult with the team in planning the schedule for the tour, and in the strategy for your protection," Vickers explained. "That is, if you wish to have any input."

Jim got to his feet. "Damn straight I do. Quite frankly, your security stinks."

Vickers noticeably stiffened. "The security we have provided has been top level."

"Well, your so called top-level security isn't good enough, pal." Jim turned away from the agent and looked directly at Blair. "I'm sorry, but I need to be at this meeting. Look, you're exhausted, while I'm gone why don't you take the time and get some sleep."

"No. I'm fine." Blair pushed away from the table and stood up. "I'd like to be at this meeting, also."

Jim shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Princes do not shrug, Your Highness," Blair reminded as they left the penthouse. Jim's back was to him but he swore he could feel the roll of Jim's eyes. "And they don't roll their eyes either."

"Shit, Chief." Jim snickered. "Did you know you're a slave driver?"

"Nor do they swear. And, it's _Mr. Sandburg_ ," Blair said in exasperation.

Jim turned around, continuing to walk backward and saluted. "Yes, sir. Mr. Sandburg, sir. Anything you say, sir."

"Smartass," Blair muttered.

"Ah, ah, ah," Jim waggled a playful finger at him. "No swearing. Remember?"

"That rule applies to you, not me." Retaining his smile, Blair spun Jim back around and gave him a little shove in the direction of the elevators.

***

They took the elevator down to the second floor where the conference rooms were situated. The doors opened, and the FedSec agent got out first, hand on his gun, looking up and down the hallway.

"There's no one out there," Jim stated.

"How could you know that?" Blair glanced up and noticed the same odd tilt to Jim's head and look in his eyes that he had witnessed just before Agent Vickers had entered the room.

"I just do." Jim gave a little shake to his head then continued, "And besides, the assassin isn't going to make a move in a quiet hotel corridor. The group he works for is going to want a nice public killing with as many people and news media around to witness it."

"Are you sure about that?" Blair asked

"Pretty damn sure."

"Okay. All's clear," Vickers said, motioning Jim and Blair into the hallway.

Blair stepped out of the elevator, and a wave of dizziness passed through him causing him to stumble. He almost fell to the floor, but Jim caught him, steadying him by holding onto his upper arm.

"Whoa. Easy, Chief." 

"I'm okay." Blair could feel the warmth of Jim's fingers through the silky material of his dress shirt and for a brief second, he allowed himself to revel in the feeling.

"No, you're not. You're dead on your feet. You should go back to your room and get some sleep."

Blair shook his head, glad the dizziness didn't return. "I have to be at that scheduling meeting." He attempted to move away, but Jim held him firmly. Looking down, he glanced at the hand on his arm then lifted his eyes to meet Jim's and felt a shiver rush through him. "I'd appreciate it if you would let go of my arm, Your Highness."

Instead of letting go, Jim clasped Blair's other arm and drew him closer. Lowering his head, Jim whispered directly into his ear, "That demure attitude really doesn't suit you, Chief. You know what I think? I think it's all an act. I just bet that when you get home from work, you drop that Mr. Proper mannerism, take off the expensive suit, let your hair down and kick up your feet. Man, would I love to be there to see that."

When Jim looked into Blair's eyes, he had to turn away, afraid Jim would see just how appealing the idea was to him. A clearing of a throat made them both look up to see Agent Vickers waiting impatiently nearby. "We'd better get going, Your Excellency," Blair said.

"Damn," Jim muttered and finally released Blair. "Mr. Proper is back."

"I hate to disappoint you -- but he never left." Turning on his heel, Blair continued down the corridor.

***

"Are we all in agreement with the schedule?" Senator Kinsley asked, looking around the table. A number of _yes'_ were murmured and one very distinct _no._

Jim felt all the eyes in the room come to rest on him. "I still don't agree about this cruise. A ship is way too isolated. It would be a natural target for the terrorists."

"Unless you use it to your advantage." Jim turned in his seat to look at Blair, who was seated on his left. "You know, fool them by putting military personnel on the ship and have them pose as passengers and crew."

"Good thinking, Sandburg." Jim grinned and held back the urge to lift his hand and ruffle the top of the curly head. "We could bring in teams from Special Forces and-"

"No way," the head of FedSec, Agent Moreno, cut Jim off. "FedSec is handling this, not Special Forces."

"Do I need to remind you that terrorists are involved?" Jim countered, glaring at the agent. "Special Forces Team Seven, my team in particular, has had extensive training in counter-terrorism."

"Your team has been trained for war," Moreno said. "In case you haven't noticed, Captain, this is not war."

Jim let out brisk, bitter laugh, leaned forward and folded his hands on the tabletop. "Then you'd better call up Vargas and tell that to him and his group, because _they_ sure as hell think it's one."

"Gentlemen. Please," Ambassador Young stepped in. "There's no need to argue about this now. The cruise isn't on the agenda until much later in the tour. For now, we'll keep it off the public schedule."

Jim and Moreno both nodded in agreement.

"Good," said the ambassador. "It's nice to see that there's something you both agree on."

"I still say that we should at least start making arrangements with the Special Forces teams so they can be prepped for a potential operation onboard the ship," Jim said.

"No," Monero said abruptly.

"Look, pal," Jim replied, his anger rising. "We're both on the same team. There's no reason our men can't work together."

"I said no. The military will not be involved." Turning away, Moreno addressed Senator Kinsley. "I'll give my men the schedule. They will start scouting out each of the sites right away-"

"The first thing you need to do," Jim interrupted, "is check your security in this hotel. There should be more men assigned to the royal suite. It's not secure enough. The lock on the sliding door to the balcony in the bedroom doesn't even work. Anyone could get in."

Monero laughed and stood up. "Captain Ellison, your suite is on the tenth floor. You're hardly in any danger."

"Terrorists do know how to climb," Jim stated, rising as well.

"There's no need to worry. You're quite safe," Moreno returned.

"No. I'm not. If you keep security the way it is now, then I'm as good as dead."

"Believe me, Ellison, I understand your concerns-"

"Then you won't mind if I bring in the rest of my team," Jim cut in. "I'd feel a whole hell of a lot better having my guys watching my back."

"My answer is still no. I won't have a bunch of army soldiers come barging in here and interfering with my men and their job. I won't stand for that, and neither will my team."

Moving around the table, Jim walked right up to Monero, invading his personal space. "I'm the one who is going to be wearing a damn target on my back," he hissed angrily. "I want my own men nearby. I can assure you they won't get in your way."

"No," Agent Monero said stubbornly and moved a safe distance away from Jim. "I'm the one who was hired to be in charge of security, and my answer is _no._ " He looked around the room at the rest of people. "If there's nothing else, then this meeting is now adjourned."

Jim watched as the FedSec agent left the room then turned to look at Blair. "I didn't want it to come to this, but I have no other choice, I'm going to have to go over his head."

***

"Why is it," Blair asked once he and Jim were safely back in the penthouse suit, "that Agent Monero doesn't want your team involved?"

"Because it pretty much implies that I don't think FedSec can do the job well enough."

"I'd say it's pretty obvious you don't think they can," Blair stated from his position on the sofa.

Jim dropped down into one of the large, plush chairs, relaxing back into it. "No. That's not true. They're a top-notch security service, but they don't have the training to manage a high level protection detail. Vargas and his group are experts and they'd have no problem whatsoever getting past the FedSec agents. My team, however, is trained to deal with terrorists groups. I know and trust my men, which means I want them here, and I don't care who I offend to make it happen."

"I can understand that."

Jim’s eyebrows rose a fraction. "Can you?"

"Of course," Blair answered then released a jaw-breaking yawn. God, he was tired. It would be so easy to let his head fall back onto the sofa, close his eyes and give in to the sleep he so desperately needed.

"Why don't we take a break?" Jim asked.

Rubbing at his eyes, Blair replied, "No. I'm fine." 

"You can barely keep your eyes open."

"There's still too much I need to teach you," Blair said, sitting up straighter. "You don't even know the history of Andorra yet. I have a file full of pictures of people," Blair handed Jim the manila folder, "that you'll come in contact with, and you will have to memorize each and every name and face-"

"There's no need for that. I'll be wearing a concealed earpiece, and you'll have the mic. I'll also wear a small camera. You'll be able to see and hear everything I'm doing from the surveillance truck. When I'm doing my thing and someone comes up to me, all you have to do is give me their name and any information I might need to know about them."

"Okay. That might work some of the time, but at least forty of these people are diplomats that Alvaro knows quite well. What if you run into any one of them on the tour, and I don't happen to be around?"

Jim flipped open the folder, looked at a few of the photos before handing the file back to Blair. "I don't have time to memorize every single name and face. Just pick out… say the ten most important, and I promise to look those over."

"What do you mean _you don't have time_?" Blair angrily shot to his feet. "Why in the hell can't you take this seriously? I've been working my ass off trying to prepare you and you've hardly listened to a word I've said!"

"I'm sorry, Sandburg, but I'm used to preparing for an operation in my own way and at my own speed." Leaning forward in his seat, Jim rested his elbows on his knees and looked directly at Blair. "I do appreciate everything you're trying to do, but, to be honest, I have to say that the way Alvaro walks and talks is the least of my concerns. Right now, this security problem needs to be straightened out." 

"That's not your job," Blair growled in frustration. "It's up to Agent Monero to handle security."

"When my ass is on the line, I make it my job." Jim got up. "And I'm going to make damn sure that FedSec takes every step necessary to ensure my safety."

"I understand that, but it's also important for you to work with me. Time is running out, and this operation is not going to happen if you don't learn to look and act exactly like the prince."

"All I need are tapes, Chief," Jim said, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. "Get me video and audio tapes, and I promise you I will look, act, and sound exactly like your prince."

Blair threw his hands up in annoyance. "There's no way you can possibly learn the details or Alvaro's little quirks from watching a damn tape."

"Write them down then. I retain written information much better anyway."

Just then the phone rang and Agent Vickers, who’d been assigned guard duty inside the penthouse, moved to answer it. "It's for you, Captain."

Taking the phone from the agent, Jim replied, "Ellison." A few moments passed by before he spoke again. "Thanks for calling me back, General. What's the word on getting Alpha Squad out here?" 

Blair watched as Jim's jaw tightened, the muscles along the side of his face working as he listened to General Landry. He swore sharply, not bothering to hide his bad language, and Blair once again wondered if they'd ever be ready before the deadline.

"You've dealt with FedSec in the past, sir, and it never stopped you before." Jim paused then added hotly, "Their security is damn lax. You know that as well as I do." There was another longer pause where Jim rubbed at his forehead, and it was the first sign he'd given, since Blair met him, that he was weary. "Yes, sir. Oh, and before you go," he glanced at Blair, their gazes meeting, "I need another favor. I need audio and video tapes of Alvaro sent to me as soon as possible... Great. Thank you, General." After hanging up the phone, Jim picked up a few of his own papers that were lying on the coffee table. "I need to be at a briefing FedSec is having about the locations we'll be going to here in California."

"What? Now?" Blair asked in disbelief.

"We can meet back here," Jim glanced at his watch, "at ten o'clock."

Blair shook his head. "That's way too long."

"This briefing is important. I have to be there."

"God, you are the most irritating man." Blair let out an exasperated sigh. He inhaled deeply, held his breath, counting to ten before releasing it again. "All right, if you have to go, I can give you an hour off at the most."

"Not long enough." Jim was already moving toward the door, the two security agents scrambling to keep up with him. "Put those details we talked about down on paper and we'll go over them. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Wait." Blair called. "You can't just…" The click of the door closing sounded loud in the quiet room, "…leave" He sat down heavily in one of the chairs and angrily brushed both hands through his hair. "Damn it! What the hell am I going to do with him?"

***

Dressed entirely in black, Jim stood outside on the hotel balcony. A warm breeze ruffled his hair and the darkness night surrounded him while the beat of soft tribal music filled his ears. Facing the sliding doors of Blair’s suit, he had no trouble seeing inside the candle-lit living room beyond the glass. Blair sat in the middle of the floor, spine straight, head tilted back slightly, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees, palm side up. He was facing Jim, but with his eyes closed, he had no idea he was being observed. 

Blair wore nothing except a pair of tight, black boxer-briefs, and as Jim's eyes raked over the lightly haired chest, the hot rush of desire flowed through him. The urge to run his fingers through the short, tight curls and kiss those full lips was overpowering.

This was not the scenario he had expected to find when he'd climbed up the side of the hotel and onto Blair's ninth floor balcony. He'd figured Blair would be hard at work, not sitting there, half naked, fueling Jim's sexual fantasies. 

Taking a few steps forward, Jim tested the glass door. It was unlocked so he slowly slid it open. Soundlessly he slipped through, and stopped just inside. Dialing up his sense of smell, he breathed in deeply and allowed himself a few seconds to savor Blair's deep, spicy aroma.

Watching the other man closely, Jim lightly cleared his throat. It took a second for the sound to register, but when it did, Blair reacted instantly. His eyes flew open and he jumped to his feet, arms coming up in a defense posture. Jim could hear Blair's heart pounding and his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Blair looked frightened. There was a wildness in his eyes, and he seemed uncertain if he should stay and defend himself or run for the door. Seeing that fear, Jim suddenly felt guilty for coming in and scaring Blair like he had, but he'd done it to prove a point. It wasn't until Blair met Jim's eyes that he realized who it was standing before him. 

"Jim?" Blair lowered his arms. "What the hell? What are you doing here?"

"Proving a point," Jim said. 

Seeing Blair standing there practically naked, Jim couldn't stop his body from reacting, no matter how hard he tried. Instantly, he felt his skin heat up and his blood pressure rise -- along with another part of his anatomy.

"How did you get in?" Blair asked, oblivious to Jim's reaction. "My door was locked."

"Your front door… yes," Jim answered before pointing behind him. "But not your balcony door."

Blair mouth dropped open slightly, and he stared at Jim with a look of disbelief. "You came in by the balcony?"

"Yep." Jim nodded, watching Blair. He couldn't stop his eyes from sliding over the other man's body, and his arousal once again flared to life. "Uh, Chief… Could you do me a favor?"

"Okay," Blair said, not sounding too confident of his agreement.

"Would you mind putting some clothes on? Because you're pretty damned distracting with the way you look right now."

Blair glanced down at himself, and his eyes widened. He then looked back up at Jim, took a step back and away from him, as though he could read every thought in Jim's eyes.

"Yeah. I'll just…" Blair pointed to the bedroom and hurried away. Jim's gaze stayed with him until he disappeared behind the closing door.

A minute later, Blair was back, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Even though he was covered up, the image of him wearing nothing but his underwear stayed burned in Jim's mind. 

Reaching into his pocket, Jim pulled out a slightly crushed and wilted orange flower. "Here," he said, handing it to Blair.

Blair took it and looked from Jim to the plant then back to Jim again. "What's this?"

"It's a plant. Actually a poppy if you want to get technical."

"Well, duh, I know that. Why are you showing it to me?"

"Because I climbed down and picked it -- as proof." Jim smirked, feeling rather proud of himself for his accomplishment.

"Climbed down…" Blair's voice trailed off and his eyes widened. "Wait a second. Are you telling me that from your penthouse, you climbed all the way down the outside of this building to the ground, picked this flower," he held out the plant and gave it a little shake, causing a petal to drop to the floor, "then climbed back up again to my room?"

"Yes, Chief. That's exactly what I'm saying." Jim went over to the sliding door, pulled it closed, and locked it before drawing the curtain shut.

"And no one saw you?"

"No. And that's my point. There are no guards watching this side of the building. FedSec doesn't see the balconies as an accessible way in. It's an easy climb, and it didn't take very long." Jim glanced at his watch. "Forty-three minutes to be exact."

Jim looked into Blair's face, expecting to see surprise, or maybe even a hint of respect, but instead, his eyes filled with anger. Jim was about to say something, when Blair held up his hand, stopping him.

"Hold on." Blair glared at him. "This is what you were doing with your time? Climbing up and down the outside of the hotel like some superhero instead of spending that time with me, learning how to act like Alvaro?"

"I told you, I had to do it to prove my point," Jim said, his voice rising. "FedSec's security is shit."

"God, I can't believe you! You just don't get it, do you?" Blair said tightly, running a hand over his face. "You've wasted time. Valuable time. Are you even aware that we've got less than twenty-four hours to make this work?"

"I'm well aware of how much time we have left," Jim replied tersely. "I've already gone over those tapes General Landry sent to me. Posing as the prince is not going to be a problem. I need you to relax and trust me."

"And I need you to stop being so fucking patronizing," Blair said, pacing back and forth across the room. "How can you expect me to trust you, when you don't take me seriously for one God-damn second?" Walking up to Jim, Blair glared at him. "I think I get it now. I think your real intention is to mess this up so badly you won't have to place yourself in danger by posing as the prince."

Anger flared to life inside of Jim. Two well-placed steps brought him right up in Blair's face. Using both hands, he grabbed Blair by his T-shirt and pushed him up against the wall. "I volunteered for this job, Sandburg," he said, deadly serious. "And I will do it to the best of my abilities. If I end up taking a bullet for Alvaro, it will be regardless of the fact that I've done everything possible to prevent it, and not because FedSec ignored standard security procedures. I, more than anyone, know how serious this is. You might not believe it, but I'm not playing a fucking game here." Jim gave Blair a little shake before he released him and took a step back.

Blair was silent for a full minute and when he finally spoke, he looked down, not meeting Jim's eyes. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I should never have said what I did."

Jim gave a short nod of acceptance. "There's one other thing." Reaching out, Jim cupped Blair's chin in his hand, lifted his head and forced Blair to look into his eyes. "You're wrong. I do take you seriously. I take you _very_ seriously." The connection flared between them -- instant and hot. Jim moved in closer and using his thumb, lightly brushed Blair's moist lips. "God, I want to kiss you," he said in a low, husky voice.

Blair lowered his eyes and shook his head. "No. We can't." He tried to step away, but Jim blocked his escape by placing a hand on the wall next to his shoulder. The sound of Blair's heart pounding reached his ears, but Jim knew it wasn't in fear.

Letting his eyes roam over the toned compact body, Jim slowly said, "Yes. We can." His fingers caressed Blair's cheek, and then the hair at the nape of his neck. There was no resistance when he pulled Blair to him. No matter how much the other man verbally protested against them kissing, Blair's body told a whole different story. It vibrated in anticipation as Jim lowered his head. Just as he was about to claim that beautiful mouth, there was a sudden pounding on the hotel room door. Jim had been so lost in the sensual haze that surrounded them, that he hadn't heard anyone coming. 

"I do believe my absence has finally been noticed," Jim said with a smirk and a wink. 

"I'd better get that," Blair said a little breathlessly.

Reluctantly, he let Blair go so he could answer the door. Jim heard the alarm in Agent Zachary Monero's voice as he addressed Blair. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Sandburg, but we have an emergency situation. Captain Ellison has disappeared from his room."

"Yeah, well, he's reappeared in my room." Jim chuckled at Blair's retort. "Came in through the balcony doors."

"What? That's impossible!" the agent said, not sounding at all convinced.

"See for yourself." Blair stepped aside, allowing Monero to enter the room.

"Ellison! What in the hell is going on?" Monero demanded when he spotted Jim leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

"Hey, Zach." Jim gave a little wave. "How's it going?"

"What type of crap are you pulling here, Captain? I don't appreciate-"

"It's not crap," Jim cut him off and pushed away from the wall. "It's my life I'm putting in your hands, and I thought I'd give a little demonstration to prove that FedSec has some weak spots in their security. I climbed down the outside of this building, took a nice stroll through the gardens, then came back up to have a little visit with Mr. Sandburg. And you want to know something, Monero, not one of your men saw me wandering around. Hell, it took you over an hour to notice I was missing."

"Okay. Fine." Agent Monero raised his hands in surrender. "You've proved your point. I'll set up another security meeting, and we'll discuss the… inconsistencies." Not waiting for an answer, Monero turned on his heel and left, leaving two of his agents behind. 

Jim glanced over at Blair and saw him grinning with a look of amusement on his face. "Well, seems your little plan worked," Blair said. "You've definitely got their attention now."

***

Blair's laughter filled the royal suite, and Jim smirked at him. "Well, it's true. Alvaro does walk like he has a broom handle up his ass. Watch?" Jim got up from the sofa, where he'd been sitting next to Blair, and marched stiffly across the room. Blair laughed even harder, his whole body shaking as he wrapped an arm around his waist. Doing his impression of Alvaro's odd gait, Jim did another stroll around the room. 

"Oh, God," Blair gasped, doubling over and continuing to laugh. When he seemed to find his breath again, he wiped at his eyes and said, "Man, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time." With a grin on his face, he flopped back, leaned his head against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes.

Jim sat down next to him, watching Blair closely. Even though his face was flushed, Jim couldn't miss the lines of fatigue around his mouth and across his forehead or the dark smudges under his eyes. "You look tired."

Opening his eyes, Blair tilted his head to the side and looked at him "I'm fine, Jim."

"Now _there's_ proof that you definitely need some sleep. You're becoming delirious. You just called me _'Jim'_."

Blair looked away and murmured, "Sorry, _Your Highness._ "

Reaching out, Jim placed his fingers on Blair's cheek farthest from him, and turned his head back to face him. "I much prefer Jim," he said softly. Using his thumb, Jim brushed away the remaining tears caused by Blair's laughing. The skin on his cheek felt soft and warm, and Jim brought his other arm up, cupping the beautiful face between his hands. Blair didn't flinch or move, and much to Jim's relief, he didn't try to pull away. Blair just sat there, gazing up at him with those pretty big blue eyes.

Slowly, Jim leaned forward, watching Blair closely for any signs of protest. His eyes blinked once, and Jim didn't miss the raw desire, nor did he miss the doubt and the flash of fear. It almost made Jim pull back, but then Blair parted his mouth slightly, and he couldn't resist, he just had to have a taste.

Slowly, he ran his tongue across Blair's lips before slipping into the heat of his mouth. Jim closed his eyes, savoring the enticing flavor of oranges and coffee. He caressed Blair's tongue with his own, and when Blair responded by opening his mouth wider and deepening their kiss, Jim felt a rush of desire slam right into his gut. He had to use every ounce of control he possessed to keep from giving into his need and pushing Blair down onto the sofa, removing his clothes, and running his hands over every inch of the sturdy body. 

Instead, he made himself slow down, and take the time to savor and explore the warm, moist mouth and soft lips. The kiss was exhilarating, and Jim could feel his blood as it surged through his veins, could hear his heart pound in a wild, frantic rhythm. He wanted Blair desperately and felt a sudden tightness in his chest, a weight of emotions he had never before experienced, and it confused him.

Breaking the kiss, Jim looked at Blair and their eyes met and held. He watched, mesmerized, as a pink tongue ran across kiss-swollen lips, then Blair swallowed hard and said, "Wow."

Jim smiled. "Yeah," he whispered. "I've wanted to do that since the first time we met in your hotel room.

Blair dropped his head and shifted away from Jim. "We should get back to work."

"Blair-"

"There's still a lot we need to go over, Your Highness," Blair said, picking up his legal pad.

"Cut the _Your Highness_ crap, Sandburg." Jim got to his feet and glared down at the other man but Blair wouldn't look at him. "So, this is how's it's going to be, is it? You're just going to ignore what happened between us?"

Fiddling awkwardly with his pen, Blair replied, "Nothing… It was a mistake."

"What?" Jim straightened, hiding his disappointment behind an angry expression.

"The kiss… was a mistake."

"That was no mistake, Chief. You wanted it as much as I did."

"No." Blair shook his head. "I'm so tired that I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You're lying." And Jim knew he was. His senses picking up the minute changes in the other man's heartbeat and breathing was proof enough. Jim reached out and gently touched Blair's hair, but Blair quickly shifted away from him and Jim's hand slowly fell to his side. "Fine," he said shortly. "I'm going to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same… _Mr._ Sandburg." He headed for the bedroom and closed the door hard behind him.

***

Blair's whole body jumped, and he sat straight up in bed. A quick glance at the clock told him that he had slept for nearly four hours. The entire morning was gone and precious time was slipping away.

"Shit," he muttered angrily. Throwing back the covers, he swung his legs out of bed.

He had left specific instructions with Agent Vickers to let Jim sleep for two hours before waking him and then have Jim call Blair. There was still a lot they had to go over and they needed to use every second they could get.

Rushing into the bathroom, Blair splashed some cold water on his face and brushed his hair, pulling it back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He exchanged his wrinkled shirt for a clean black silk one, knotted a silver tie around his neck and finished dressing. Not bothering with a suit jacket, Blair quickly left his room and headed for the Royal Suite.

After a brisk conversation with Vickers, Blair learned that Jim had only slept for just over an hour and was now down in the hotel's exercise room. 

Standing in front of the elevators, Blair angrily jabbed at the 'down' button. He was pissed. Pissed at Jim for not waking him when he had been told to do so, and pissed that, once again, Jim was not taking Blair and his work seriously.

He seethed with anger on the ride down in the elevator and seethed some more during his walk to the exercise rooms. Pushing open the door, Blair gave a sharp nod to the four FedSec agents standing guard and hurried inside. It took him only a moment to locate Jim. He had expected him to be alone, training on one of the machines, but instead, Jim was at a large workout mat sparring with another man while two others looked on. Blair realized that these must be the men from Jim's squad, the ones he had asked General Landry to send. 

Blair took a step forward, intending to stalk over to Jim to give him a piece of his mind, but he paused, eyes suddenly drawn to the fluid motion of Jim's body, and his anger was momentarily forgotten.

Jim wore a pair of army-issue shorts, but no t-shirt. His smooth, tanned skin was slick with sweat, and his muscles rippled with every movement. Blair watched as Jim shifted around the mat, blocking and throwing punches and kicks. He was graceful and surefooted, his motion fluid, and he made the intense workout look effortless. He was absolutely breathtaking, and Blair found his heart quicken at the thought. Jim really was beautiful and this beautiful man had kissed him. 

It had been an amazing, heart-stopping kiss.

It had been unlike any kiss Blair had ever experienced before. 

It was laced with tenderness and laden with emotions.

Blair had been well aware that Jim had held himself back. He had felt the other man's restraint and the power of his control. He had also seen the heat of desire in Jim's eyes and had understood that Jim had wanted more than just a kiss. 

With a sigh, Blair wished things could be different. Jim had been right. Blair had lied about the kiss being a mistake. The kiss was wonderful -- it was the timing that sucked. As much as Blair was attracted to Jim, he just couldn't add a romantic distraction on top of everything else. And even if that wasn't the case, even if Blair gave in and let their attraction take them to another level -- to something more permanent perhaps, Blair wasn't sure he'd be able to handle having someone he cared about leave on some dangerous, top-secret mission. Or simply say good-bye to the man he loved, knowing that he might never return.

Whoa. Stop right there! Love?

No! He did _not_ just think that. He was not in love with Jim Ellison. No way.

Blair shook his head, his anger returning. He should have never let Jim kiss him in the first place. It was putting way too many thoughts in his already over-crowded, over-stressed brain.

Glancing up, Blair noticed Jim watching him, and their eyes met briefly. The sparring seemed to be finished, and Jim turned to the three men, spoke a few words Blair could not hear, grabbed a towel and headed over to him.

"What's up, Chie- Mr. Sandburg?" Jim stopped a few feet away, clearly keeping a respectable distance. The usual easy-going smile was absent from his face, and Blair found himself missing it. Before he could answer, they were surrounded by Jim's friends, who stood watching them closely. "Beat it," Jim said, glaring at them. "This is a private conversation."

"Not anymore." One of the men chuckled. He reminded Blair of Jim. Same height, muscular build and rugged good-looks. His eyes were light-blue, but not the same incredible ice-blue of Jim's. Everything about him screamed military -- at least to Blair it did. "Hi. Name's Mack Gerhardt," he said, sticking out his hand.

Blair shook it, saying, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Gerhardt."

Another man stepped forward. "Call him Mack. No need for formality among this bunch. I'm Charlie Grey, by the way."

"Charlie," Blair greeted. While shaking Charlie's hand, he noted that the man was similar to himself. They were close in height and both had a lean, stocky body, only Charlie had a little more muscle. His thick hair was black and wavy, the length stopping just below his ears, but Blair was sure if the man let it grow longer, it would be curly just like his own. The biggest differences were palpable in their faces. Charlie had a full, close-cut beard, where Blair was clean-shaven. Blair had cobalt-blue eyes, but Charlie's were a rich, dark brown that shone with mischief. Although he knew nothing about this man, there was something about him -- a kindness, an openness -- Blair wasn't sure, but he found himself liking him instantly.

"Guess that leaves me." The last of the three men stepped forward and they shook hands. "Bob Brown."

"He's the baby of the group," Mack teased, gesturing toward Bob with a nod of his head.

Bob sighed and rolled his eyes. With a smile, he looked at Blair. "It's only by four months, but they won't let me forget it."

Listening and watching Bob, Blair would never have guessed him a highly trained, Special Forces operative. He was a good looking man. Honey brown eyes, military hair cut and nicely muscled. His facial features almost made him pretty but not feminine in any way. He was soft spoken and had a gentleness about him that made him appear to be far from threatening, yet Blair didn't doubt for a second Bob was just as dangerous as the rest of the men on the team.

"All right, ladies, enough," Jim addressed his men with a smirk, and Blair felt his stomach do a little flip at seeing the smile. "This is Blair Sandburg. He is Prince Alvaro's media consultant and is also part of the scheduling team for this operation."

"Hi, Blair," they all said together with grins on their faces, and Blair couldn't help but smile back. His anger had lessened slightly, but he still wasn't going to let Jim off the hook for once again dismissing him and his work.

Turning to Jim, he asked stiffly, "May I have a word with you?"

"Sure," Jim said then looked at the other men. "Okay, boys. It's time for you to go play somewhere else. The grown-ups need to have a little talk."

"Yes, dad," mumbled Charlie before dragging the other two men over to the weight-lifting equipment.

Once they were alone, Jim turned his full attention on Blair. "Okay, I can tell you're ticked off at me about something, so why don't you just spit it out."

"I can't believe you did it again," Blair replied, glaring at Jim.

"Did what again?"

"Totally dismissed the importance of my work -- our work," Blair hissed angrily. "I specifically left word for you to call me when you got up. But did you do as I asked? No, of course not. Instead, you let precious hours slip by while you're down here playing army games with your friends."

"We've been over this once before," Jim said, his voice tense. "I am not rehashing it with you again." He took a step away, but Blair blocked Jim's path with a hand on his chest.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, Captain." Blair's voice rose with each word. Their raised voices now had the full attention of the three Alpha Squad men along with the FedSec agents, but Blair didn't give a damn. "I won't have you risking the importance of this tour through your own stupid ignorance because you won't listen to me!"

Jim flinched as though slapped and turned away, but Blair didn't miss the flash of hurt in his eyes. Hurt that was rapidly replaced with anger.

"Shit," Jim hissed through clenched teeth. "You've blown everything out of proportion. I was only trying to be nice! You've been so exhausted. I thought I'd let you get a few more hours sleep while I worked out… You know what, _Chief_? Just forget it. I've had enough. From now on, I won't bother, okay! From now on, we'll go by the book." He pushed past Blair and headed for the locker room. The FedSec agents scrambled after him and were closely followed by Jim's team members.

"Damn it!" Blair yelled to the empty room. "Great! Just great!" Oh yeah, he’d handled that just perfectly! He felt like a first class shmuck. Jim had let him sleep in because he wanted to do something nice for him and what did Blair do? He’d berated Jim in front of his friends. Called him _stupid_ and _arrogant._ And those words had clearly hurt Jim. If there was anyone to blame here, it was Blair. He had taken his anger and frustration out on Jim. Their shared kiss had turned his entire world upside down, throwing him utterly and quite thoroughly off-balance. There was one thing he did know for certain -- he owed Jim Ellison an apology.

***

Jim stood under the spray of the shower in the locker room, hoping the warm water would soothe his anger, but so far no such luck.

He now knew exactly what Blair Sandburg really thought of him, didn't he? _Stupid_ and _arrogant._ Two words that summed it all up in a nice, neat little package and delivered a hurtful blow. 

Shutting off the taps a little harder than necessary, Jim left the stall. He grabbed a towel from a pile of clean ones and vigorously dried himself off and began to dress. 

"Hey, Jim. What's going on with you and Sandburg?" Mack asked as he pulled a clean t-shirt over his head.

"Nothing," Jim answered evenly. He glanced up to find Charlie watching him closely. _Damn,_ he thought. He and Charlie's connection was so tight they practically shared each other's thoughts, easily communicating with a look or a nod. And from the look Charlie sent him, the man understood exactly what was going on.

"I haven't seen anyone piss you off this much in a long time…" Mack stopped and seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Ah, I get it. You're attracted to the handsome Mr. Sandburg. He's not your usual type, but, I admit, he is cute," he teased.

"Mack, back off," Charlie quietly warned.

"What? There's nothing wrong with Jim getting _some_ while he's on this op. As long as it doesn't cloud his judgment."

Jim approached Mack, backing him up against the lockers. "Listen, because I'm only going to say this once. There is nothing, nor will there ever be anything, between me and Sandburg. Got it?" 

Mack held up his hands. "Yeah. I got it."

"Good." Jim turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

***

It was with a small amount of reluctance that Jim walked down the hallway, his ever-present babysitters bringing up the rear. He had been summoned to Blair's hotel room and although Jim's first thought was to tell him to go to hell, he had agreed with a brisk 'yes', figuring it had to do with the job. Which he _was_ taking very seriously -- not that Blair believed it.

Somewhere between the locker rooms and his suite, the anger had burned out and was replaced with exhaustion. He was tired. Too tired to be angry. Too tired to feel anything except disappointment and hurt. It made him feel vulnerable, and he hated it.

With a sigh, he raised his hand and rapped hard on the polished wooden door.

His sentinel hearing picked up the sound of footsteps muffled by carpeting, and a second later the door opened and Blair stood before him. He was dressed in a pair of casual black dress pants and a deep red silk shirt, the top three buttons were undone to reveal the dark chest hair. He was wearing his glasses, hair out of the ponytail, hanging in soft curls around his face, and the spicy fragrance of cologne reached Jim's nose. Blair smelled fantastic and looked absolutely gorgeous. Immediately, Jim felt the stirring of arousal and did his best to ignore it.

"Come in." Blair sent Jim a small, almost shy smile and moved aside to let him enter. "Would you guys mind waiting outside?" Blair asked the agents, who looked at one another, gave a little shrug and took up positions in the hallway. "Thanks," he told them and shut the door. Blair walked over to Jim. "I hope you're hungry." He gestured toward the small, round, mahogany dining table.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jim eyed the table that was set for two. "What's this?"

"It's food, Jim." Blair grinned. 

"I know that. I'm not an idiot." Jim's eyes narrowed and he glared at Blair, watching the smile disappear from his face. "I'll ask you again. What is this?"

"Sit down, and I'll explain everything." When Jim made no move to comply, Blair said, "Please." 

Those big, expressive eyes blinked up at him, and Jim felt himself give in. Pulling out a chair, he sat down and leaned back, arms still crossed. He didn't say a word, instead waited for Blair to make the first move.

"I've been so stressed lately, and this afternoon I was angry," Blair explained, sitting in the opposite chair and meeting Jim's gaze. "Not only did I say some things to you that I didn't mean, I was also rude to you in front of your friends. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. I really am sorry, Jim. And I hope you'll accept my apology."

Jim was quiet for a moment, watching Blair closely. With his senses dialed up, he did a sensory scan and knew Blair was telling the truth. "Okay." He nodded.

"Really?" Blair sounded surprised that Jim had forgiven him so easily.

"Really."

Holding out his hand to Jim, Blair asked, "Still friends?"

"You bet, Chief." Jim smiled and slipped his hand into Blair's. 

"Great," Blair returned enthusiastically as they shook.

The bright grin that lit up Blair's face made Jim's heart skip a beat. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to get up from his chair, pull Blair into his arms and kiss him long and hard – and softly and tenderly. As their eyes met and held, the attraction between them seemed to come alive, and Jim swore he could hear the sizzle of electricity in the air. No one had ever affected him this way. No one had ever made his pulse quicken with just a glance or a light touch. No one had ever caused Jim's senses to snap to attention with such accuracy. It was as though they had been functioning only at half power until Blair entered into his life.

A thought suddenly flashed through Jim's mind… no, not a thought… a forgotten memory -- a memory of his time in Peru. A time when Incacha had been teaching him about his abilities. The tribal Shaman had told Jim that even though he was gaining control of his senses, he would never truly have complete control until he found his Guide. Then, and only then, would his senses work to their best ability. Abruptly, all the air rushed from his lungs, and he felt as though someone had just gut punched him because he remembered one other thing Incacha had told him. A Sentinel only had one true Guide and once Sentinel and Guide found one another, they mated for life.

Jim snatched his hand away from Blair's as if he'd just been burned. No way was he going to be attached to one person for the rest of his life. As much as he felt attracted to Blair, and as much as he wanted to take him to bed, he didn't want them to spend a lifetime together. He didn't want that with anyone. His life was just fine the way it was -- thank you very much.

"You okay?" Blair asked, concern clear in his voice.

"Yeah," Jim quickly replied. "Sorry. Guess I'm just tired… and hungry," he added.

"Me too. Let's dig in." Blair stood and removed the plate-warmers covering their dishes. "I hope you like lamb." He glanced hopefully at Jim as he sat down again.

"Yes, I do." Jim breathed in the sweet, rich aroma. "It's one of my favorites, actually. Haven't had it in a long time, though." He didn't miss the pleased look that crossed Blair's face.

"Enjoy," Blair said before picking up his glass of wine and taking a sip. They ate in silence for a few minutes until Blair broke it. "How long have you been in the military?"

"Since I was eighteen."

Blair's fork stopped halfway between his plate and his mouth and his eyebrows rose up to his forehead. "Wow. You've been in it a long time."

"Nearly eighteen years."

"Ever thought of retiring and doing something else?"

"Like what?" Jim asked, cutting into his baked potato.

"I don't know." Blair paused. "Maybe like become a cop or doing something in security."

"No." Jim shook his head. "I love what I do and can't imagine doing anything else."

"Oh," Blair replied, albeit a little somberly, making Jim wonder about the sudden shift in mood.

"So, tell me, Chief, how'd you end up working for old Al?" Jim asked, hoping the change of topic would bring back the spark to Blair's eyes.

"My mother married Alvaro's father."

"What?" Jim couldn't help it; he began to laugh. "That means it makes you and Al step-brothers."

"Yeah." Blair chuckled. "Lucky me, huh?"

"You're royalty then." 

Blair shook his head and laughed. "No. Not by blood, anyway. I was born and raised in the U.S. My mom is sort of a free spirit. She loved to travel and took me all over the world with her. Man, I've seen some pretty amazing places." Blair paused for a second, his thoughts seeming to turn inward, as though remembering all the places he'd been.

"I can imagine." Jim took a sip of his wine. "But that still doesn't explain how you ended up working for _Prince Charming._ "

"Oh, right!" Blair bounced in his seat, and Jim couldn't help but smile seeing the spark of excitement return. "I went to Andorra for my mom's wedding and ended up falling in love with the country and its people. So, I decided to live there."

"Before you moved to Andorra, where was home?"

"Cascade, Washington."

Jim froze and looked up from his plate to stare at Blair.

"What?" Blair asked.

"I'm from Cascade as well."

"Oh, my God. That's so cool!" Blair grinned. "I lived there from the age of sixteen up until I left for Andorra five years ago."

"I don't get to spend much time in Cascade. Only when I'm on leave. I have a cabin up at Ross Lake."

"Hey, I've been kayaking many times on that lake. Have done a lot of hiking in Olympic National Park, too. It's a beautiful area."

"It is. Actually, I was there with Charlie and Mack when the chopper showed up and extracted me to bring me here."

"Your parents must be really proud of you. Being a captain in the army and head of your elite team, not to mention the number of lives you must have saved over the course of your career."

Jim looked away and lowered his head, doing his best to keep the old hurt from showing on his face. 

When Jim didn't say anything, Blair asked, "Did I say something wrong?" 

"No. It's not you, Chief." Jim swallowed and looked directly into concerned blue eyes. He couldn't believe he was about to tell Blair about his parents. The only person he had ever mentioned them to was Charlie. "I haven't seen any of my family since I joined the army." Blair didn't say anything but Jim watched as the concern was replaced with sadness. "My mom left when I was ten, and I never saw her again. My dad raised my brother and me with an iron fist. Nothing we did was ever good enough in his eyes. He constantly pitted us against one another, thinking it would toughen us up, but instead, it drove us apart. When I finally turned eighteen, I couldn't get away fast enough."

"So you joined the army."

"Yep. And here I am."

Reaching across the table, Blair rested his hand on top of Jim's. "I'm really sorry, Jim."

Jim smiled at Blair who smiled back, gazing into Jim's eyes. Time seemed to stand still, and Jim felt that pull of attraction again, so he slipped his hand out from under Blair's.

"We got a little sidetracked, Chief. We were talking about you and how you ended up working with Alvaro."

"Right." Blair nodded. "Well, King Badran, whose first name is Edris, by the way. Naomi and I-"

"Naomi?"

"Oh, that's my mom. She likes me to call her by her first name. Anyway, Naomi and I call him Eddie. He loves that." Blair laughed. "He's a great man. He's kind and gentle and funny." When Blair talked, his whole body became animated, and Jim discovered that he loved to watch him. He definitely liked this Blair much better than the serious, proper one. "Eddie has always treated me like his son, and he's like the father I never had. He's always told me how proud he is of the accomplishments I've made in my life. When this royal tour came up, he asked me to be Alvaro's personal consultant. I knew how very important it was to him that the tour be successful, so I agreed. No matter how annoying Alvaro can be, I won't let Eddie down."

"I can see how much the king means to you."

"I think you'd really like him, Jim. He's the exact opposite of Alvaro. I'm told the prince takes after his mother. She died giving birth to him." Blair paused, his eyes roaming over Jim. "You're nothing like the prince, you know."

Jim chuckled. "I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"Believe me, it's definitely a compliment." Blair laughed. "Alvaro is not a very nice man."

"He's a coward and an idiot," Jim said flatly.

"I can see you don't think much of him, either."

"That's the understatement of the year. I tell you, if I end up taking a bullet for him, I'm going to be extremely pissed off."

Suddenly, Blair became very quiet. He got up and walked over to the large balcony doors. With a frown, Jim's eyes followed him. Dialing up his senses, he could hear Blair's elevated heart beat, and he could pick up on the bitter scent of fear. Confused, he placed his napkin on the table and went over to Blair, stopping just behind him. "What's wrong, Blair?"

Blair took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. "I've been so focused on the tour and turning you into Alvaro, that I never once considered your safely. I just realized how dangerous this is for you. You're risking your life while Alvaro lives in the lap of luxury in some safe house. Posing as the prince could very easily get you killed."

"It's my job," Jim said. "I've been in dangerous situations before. I'm used to it."

"Yeah, well, it sucks." He turned around and faced Jim. Reaching up, Blair lightly brushed the back of his hand along Jim's cheek. "I don't want you to die."

Jim's skin burned where Blair touched him, and his heart did a little flutter. He brought his own hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind Blair's ear. "I can't promise you that nothing will happen. I wish I could, but I can't."

"I know," Blair quietly replied. 

"Come on, let's go finish our meal. Then we'll get back to work." Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder and guided him back to the table.

***

The deadline had finally arrived, and as Blair sat down at the conference table, he didn't have the slightest clue whether or not he'd been able to pull off the task of turning Jim into Prince Alvaro. Jim had told him not to worry. That when the time came, he'd do it right. But Blair couldn't help but worry. He worried that he hadn't done a good enough job, and he especially worried that a terrorist's bullet would take Jim's life.

Jim had tried to reassure him by explaining the security plans he had arranged with the FedSec agents and his men from Alpha Squad. He also reminded Blair that this operation had minimal risks compared to most ops he and his team had been on.

Blair understood danger was part of Jim's life, that Jim was used to it, but knowing that held little comfort for Blair. All he knew was he hadn't realized how much he'd come to care for Jim until he thought about the other man dying. And he finally admitted to himself that he wished they could take their obvious attraction for one another to a whole different level. Especially when Jim burned him with that look in his eyes that promised a night filled with amazing sex. But that's all it would be -- sex. With Jim's type of career, Blair didn't see him wanting to pursue something more permanent, and Blair didn't like the idea of being with someone who risked his life on a daily basis. 

No, he didn't like that idea at all. 

The best thing would be for him to keep his distance. No more kisses. No more lingering looks or talks about their personal lives. From now on, his relationship with Jim Ellison would have to be strictly business -- but that didn't mean he wouldn't stop worrying about him.

Blair heard voices out in the hall, and a second later Senator Kinsley entered the room, followed by Ambassador Young and his aides. Both men nodded their greeting and Blair smiled back in return. When he turned back to the door, he saw Agent Monero and some of his FedSec security team, along with General Landry coming into the room. 

The general caught Blair's eye and gave him a friendly smile. He came around the table and sat down in the seat next to Blair. "Where's Jim?" he asked.

"I don't know. Still getting ready, I guess," Blair replied.

"How'd the transformation go?" Landry asked.

Blair shrugged.

"That well, huh?" The General grinned. "Don't worry. Jimmy will pull this off. He's a pretty darn good mimic and is an expert in languages." Landry patted Blair on the arm. "He's a good man, Blair. Maybe a little too intense sometimes, but that's what makes him a good commander. Once you win his loyalty, he'll be loyal to the end."

"Mr. Sandburg," Senator Kinsley interrupted. "Where the hell is Ellison?"

The conversation stopped and all eyes in the room turned to Blair. "He was getting ready." He pulled up the sleeve of his suit jacket and looked at his watch. "He's only a few minutes late."

Just then, Agent Vickers stepped through the door and announced, "Crown Prince Alvaro of Andorra." Vickers moved aside and a figure stood in the doorway. The man was dressed in white pants and a white jacket which clung to his broad shoulders and ended at his waist. Numerous metals adorned his chest, along with a pin that identified the Andorrian royal coat-of-arms.

Blair stared at the man, his eyes searching for the now-familiar differences between Jim and Alvaro. But with his shoulders back, raven hair combed away from his face and head held at a superior angle, Blair wasn't exactly sure who was standing in the doorway.

"I greet you with the timeless honor of my country." Alvaro's unique accent carried through the room. He took a few steps forward with that particular stiff royal gait, and Blair fought back the urge to laugh, remembering Jim doing his impression of Alvaro's walk. Alvaro’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly at the people sitting around the conference table, and Ambassador Young quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Your Excellency," he said. "I didn't know you were to attend this meeting."

Kinsley stood up as well and was immediately followed by the rest of the people in the room. As Blair got to his feet, he was still looking for signs that would tell him if this man was Jim or Alvaro. The real prince had never seemed so tall or daunting, but the voice, the walk and the arrogant look were pure Alvaro. The man's gaze swept around the table, and his eyes passed right over Blair without the slightest hint of recognition or warmth. He had looked directly through Blair, not at him, exactly the way Alvaro always did. This must be the prince, Blair tried to convince himself, yet his doubt still lingered.

Senator Kinsley cleared his throat. "Your Highness. It's too dangerous for you to be here. I should have been informed."

Kinsley was affixed with a very displeased stare before the prince said, "I am not used to asking permission to go where I wish."

"Your safety is of utmost importance, Your Highness." Ambassador Young spoke up. "I must be told of your location at all times. If there was something that you needed, you only had to ask."

The prince ignored Young and instead said impatiently, "Sit, sit, sit." And everyone immediately obeyed.

Everyone except the prince himself, who intentionally stood next to Senator Kinsley's chair at the head of the table. It took a second for Kinsley to realize his faux pas before he quickly got up, offered the prince his seat and moved to one of the empty chairs at the table. 

"I require a glass of water," the prince announced to no one in particular. The room burst into a flurry of movement as people scrambled for the requested item. Ambassador Young's assistant was the first to place the glass in front of the prince. "Thank you," he said with a nod.

Blair sat up straighter. _Thank you_? Those two words were not in Alvaro's vocabulary. He was sure the prince didn't even understand the meaning of them.

As the senator gave the prince a report of all that had been done over the past few days, Blair took the time to glance around the room. His eyes meet those of one of the FedSec agents guarding the door, and the agent gave him a quick wink. Blair stared for a second, then suddenly realized it was Mack Gerhardt, one of Jim's men. His head whipped back and forth a few times between the prince and Mack and then he threw back his head and laughed out loud.

Senator Kinsley stopped talking and the entire table turned to look at Blair.

"Young man," Kinsley scolded. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It's Jim," Blair grinned.

No one seemed to understand. They all just continued to stare at Blair as if he'd lost his mind -- everyone except Agent Monero, who was nodding, a knowing smile on his face and General Landry, who was leaning back in his chair, chuckling.

For those who were slow in understanding, Blair pointed toward the man sitting at the head of the table. "He is not Prince Alvaro," he explained. "It's Captain Ellison."

The silence was suddenly filled with the sound of everyone talking at once. Blair gazed into Jim's face, and he watched as the prince's arrogant expression changed into a friendly smile and the cold eyes turned warm. Oh, yeah, there was no mistake about it -- this was definitely Jim.

Knowing Jim couldn't hear him above the chattering noise, Blair still said, "You're amazing." Jim surprised him by mouthing the words _thank you._ He wasn't sure how the captain had heard him, but he was glad he did. Jim really was amazing, and Blair found himself wondering if there was nothing the man could not do.

Blair quickly pulled his eyes away from the sultry heat of Jim's gaze. God, the way the man looked at him; it made him want to claim that mouth in a long, hard kiss. And he knew if they had been alone, he would have tossed aside his newly made rules and nothing would have stopped him from kissing Jim. 

General Landry's voice suddenly cut through the noise in the room. "I'd say this meeting is adjourned. Tomorrow we will announce to the press that the tour will resume immediately."

Kinsley approached Blair and shook his hand, praising him on a job well done before the senator rushed from the room. The whole time, Blair could feel Jim's eyes on him. After gathering up his papers and stuffing them into his briefcase, he took a deep breath and went to join Jim, who was chatting with General Landry. Blair glanced up at Jim and when their eyes met, he felt a jolt of warm energy flow through him. Jim must have felt something too because Blair noticed an odd emotion pass across the blue eyes. He smiled tentatively, and Jim returned it with a wink, making Blair's heart skip a beat.

"So, young man," the general said to Blair as they moved out of the conference room and into the hall, "did Jimmy have you fooled?"

"Yes, sir," Blair answered. "He had me going until…"

"What?" Jim asked

"You said _thank you._ " Blair looked into the hypnotizing eyes again. "Alvaro never says thank you to anyone. Especially to someone he considers a servant."

"Yeah, well, as long as I'm in Al's shoes, he'll be saying _please_ and _thank you_ ," Jim said then added, "a lot."

Blair grinned. "That's fine with me." The three of them stepped onto the elevator followed immediately by four FedSec agents. They rode up to the penthouse in silence and waited outside the royal suite while Vickers and another agent went inside to do a security sweep.

"It's clear," Vickers said and stepped aside to allow them entrance.

"Jimmy, the equipment you asked for will be here later on this evening," General Landry said. "It'll be ready for tomorrow."

"Great. Thank you, sir." Jim clasped the general's hand before turning to Blair. "What's the schedule for tomorrow?"

"We need to be ready to leave the hotel by nine in the morning," Blair answered. "There's a number of public appearances planned throughout the day and then in the evening, you’ll attend an embassy dinner. There’ll be a few people there who know Alvaro well, so you'll need to be ready to recognize them."

"Can _you_ recognize them?" Jim asked.

"Yes, sure, but-"

"Then I'm ready," Jim said with a grin.

"We've got a surveillance van ready and waiting," the general said to Blair. "You'll be set up with a mic, and Jim will wear a concealed earpiece and microphone so you can communicate both ways. There will also be miniature cameras worn by the security agents and you'll be able to see Jim's face along with his point of view." Landry laid a hand on Blair's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "You've done a great job, Blair. You too, Jimmy." After a quick glance at his watch, he continued, "I've got to head out. I'll be in touch. You take care of yourself, Captain." The door closed behind the general and the room was suddenly silent.

"He's worried about you," Blair said.

"The general is a good man." Jim stated. "He doesn't want to lose the commanding officer of the Alpha Squad."

"No, Jim. It's more than that. He doesn't want to lose his friend." Blair paused then added, "Neither do I."

"I told you before, I have no intention of dying." Jim stated with quiet confidence.

But there was no guarantee Jim wouldn't get hurt. Once he stepped outside the main hotel doors dressed as Prince Alvaro, he would be the target for a trained assassin. By this time tomorrow, it was very possible that Jim could have been shot, maybe even killed. Blair was going to be sitting safely in a surveillance van with an up-close and personal view of Jim's death, should the terrorists find a way to get to him.

Blair's heart began to race. He looked up to see Jim watching him and was struck by the captain's bravery. Yes, there was a chance Jim might die, but in his eyes, it was a risk worth taking if it meant catching these killers. With a quick glance around the room, Blair saw they were alone for the moment. He moved closer to Jim, closing the gap between them, and despite his resolve to stay away from him, Blair slipped his arms around Jim's waist, holding him tight while resting his head against a broad shoulder.

Jim didn't move, and Blair could feel the muscles in the strong body go tense. He realized Jim was probably shocked by his actions, never expecting Blair to make such a bold move. Feeling maybe he had overstepped his bounds, he began to pull away, but suddenly arms encircled him to hold him firmly in place. He heard a quiet sigh and felt Jim's body begin to relax against him.

Holding Jim and being held by him was wonderful. They seemed to fit together so perfectly, as though they'd been made for one another. Blair tilted his head back and gazed up, looking into his eyes. At this moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to kiss this man. Sliding a hand around the back of Jim's neck, Blair pulled him down until he could brush his lips against Jim's slightly parted mouth. He was about to deepen the kiss, but before he could, Jim grabbed hold of Blair's shoulders and gently but swiftly pushed him away.

"Jim?" Blair asked, confused. He reached for him but the other man avoided his hand, moving farther away with a shake of his head. 

"I'm sorry, Chief," Jim said quietly, avoiding Blair's gaze.

The door opened suddenly, and the room filled with FedSec agents and the three Alpha Squad men, all chattering about security issues.

Blair picked up his discarded briefcase and headed toward the door. "Guess I'll see you in the morning, _Your Highness._ " He kept his head turned away so that Jim wouldn't see the hurt he knew was showing in his eyes and left the penthouse.

***

Blair sat inside the surveillance vehicle, wearing a lightweight headset with an attached microphone. Jim was riding in a limo, approaching the embassy for the scheduled dinner, and every word Blair spoke, Jim was able to hear through a tiny receiver he wore in his left ear. And Blair could clearly hear anything Jim said, thanks to the wireless mic disguised as a lapel pin that was attached to his suit jacket. He could also see Jim on one of the many monitors built into the side panel of the van.

The men from Alpha Squad were wearing earpieces and microphones as well, and they were patched into the same frequency that Blair and Jim were using. However, the FedSec security agents were tuned to a different frequency for their radio communication, but Jim's earpiece had been modified to maintain a direct link to them, allowing him to hear exactly what was going on.

"Okay. The limo has stopped in front of the embassy," head-agent Zachary Monero said. "Do you copy, Ellison?"

"Loud and clear," Jim replied then asked, "You with me, Sandburg?"

"I'm right here, Jim," Blair returned, keeping his voice low and calm even though it felt like his heart was trying to pound it's way out of his chest. He was so worried for Jim's safety that his body was vibrating with fear. 

"Ready to open the limo doors," Agent Vickers voice announced.

"Be careful, Jim," Blair whispered. On the screen, he saw Jim lean forward and briefly touch his ear, signaling that he had heard Blair. Something flickered across Jim's eyes just before he looked away, and Blair felt his stomach do a little flip.

He had been so wrong in thinking that a little time and distance would take the edge off what he felt for Jim. The moment he had walked into Jim's suite this morning and their eyes had met, the deep attraction had flared once again. No. Time and distance had done nothing to temper his feelings. He still wanted to kiss Jim now as much as he had wanted to kiss him yesterday -- maybe even more so.

"Here we go," Vickers said. "On your toes, everyone."

Blair held his breath while he watched on screen as Jim and the agents stepped out of the limo. The bright flashes from cameras lit up the darkness, and Blair's heart jumped when he saw Jim stumble slightly and hold a hand up to his eyes. Immediately, the FedSec agents surrounded him. One of the agents held Jim's head down out of target range as they quickly ushered him inside.

"Well, that was fun," Blair heard Jim mutter as the door closed behind him.

"You okay, Jim? I thought I saw you trip or something?" Blair asked, clearly worried.

"I'm fine, Chief." Jim flashed a quick smile into the camera one of the agents was wearing.

On the monitor in front of him, Blair could see the Andorrian ambassador and his wife approach, followed by a group of various guests, and he saw Jim instantly snap into character.

"Robert Young, Andorra's ambassador to the United States, and his wife, Brianna," Blair quickly told Jim. "Robert knows who you are. He was at the meeting yesterday."

"Your Excellency," the ambassador said, giving Jim a sweeping bow. "It is with the greatest pleasure that I welcome you to the Andorrian Embassy."

In return, Jim nodded with just a slight inclination of his head. Blair couldn't help but smile. Jim had Alvaro's haughty royal attitude down cold.

"Okay. The guy to Robert's right is David Morrison." Using the computer, Blair pulled up more information about the man. "Morrison is a rich business man from Dallas, Texas. He's a huge real estate investor both in the U.S and Europe. He's a friend of King Badran, and you've met three times. The last time was in Milan, Italy, a year ago."

Jim shook Morrison's hand. "Mr. Morrison," he said in Alvaro's unmistakable accent. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Good to see you, too, Your Highness," Morrison replied in a thick Texas accent.

"Tell me. Have you been to Milan since we last met there?" Jim asked.

"Great job, Jim," Blair said quietly into the mic. He felt himself begin to relax slightly. With this equipment and Jim's ability to mimic Alvaro perfectly, this job was going to be so much easier.

***

The next morning they were on their way to Mission Bay Children's Palliative Care Hospital. This time Blair rode in the limo with Jim and his bodyguards. 

"I'll be going in with you," Blair announced to Jim.

"No, Sandburg. You're not. It's too dangerous," Jim returned. "When I'm out there," he pointed out the window, "I don't want you anywhere near me."

Blair turned in his seat and looked at him. "Mission Bay wasn't on the schedule we released to the press, so there's no danger."

"Don't kid yourself, Chief. There's always danger," Jim insisted. "And there's always the possibility that we're being followed."

"I need to go in."

"No way." Jim shook his head.

"Come on-"

"I said, no. I am not risking your life, goddamnit!"

Ignoring Jim's outburst, Blair continued, "Jim, listen to me. This hospital is a care facility for children dying from various diseases. There's a little girl there named Suzie who's dying of cancer," Blair continued, his voice low. "A while ago, she wrote a letter to Alvaro asking him to come and visit her and the other children while on his tour of the U.S. When I showed the letter to Alvaro, he ripped it up, saying it was a waste of time. All this sweet little girl wants is to meet a real prince before…" Blair cleared his throat and Jim saw moisture fill his eyes, "before she dies. I spoke to her mother yesterday and Suzie has gotten worse. She may only live for another week, two at the most."

"Jeezus," Jim swore and rubbed his forehead. He sat silent for a minute then asked, "What the hell am I supposed to say to a kid who's dying?" A hand rested on his arm, and Jim looked up into Blair's face.

"Don't worry." Blair sent him a soft, understanding smile. "I'll be right there with you."

***

Jim didn't know how he did it, but somehow he'd managed to keep a smile on his face when he left little Suzie's room. And somehow he'd managed to walk down the hall, without putting his fist through the wall, until the rage that burned through his body and stung his eyes became so intense he couldn't take another step.

Turing to face the wall, Jim leaned the palms of his hands flat against it and dropped his head between his shoulders. He'd known it was going to be bad the second he'd entered the hospital and the scent of death filled his nose. He had felt himself becoming overwhelmed, his dials slipping out of control, and he fought hard to restrain them. He thought himself lost but he was pulled back immediately when a hand had suddenly rested on the center of his back, and a soft word had spoken into his ear, telling him it was okay.

Blair.

Blair had been the one who had stopped him from slipping into a deep zone. It left no doubt in his mind they were meant to be together -- they were Sentinel and Guide.

Yeah, he knew it was going to be bad, but he hadn't expected it to be that bad. With Blair by his side, he was able to dial down his sense of smell and keep it down, but that didn't stop his eyes from imprinting the vision of the brave yet suffering and dying children. It just didn't seem fair that these sweet, innocent kids had to suffer so much. Numerous times he felt the rage and frustration well up inside of him, making it almost impossible to speak.

"Jim? You okay?" Blair stepped up beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Jim shook his head in reply. Blair took him by the arm, led him into an empty break room and told the guards to wait outside the door before he closed it. He walked up to Jim and without a word, wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly.

"God, Chief," Jim said, his voice shaky. 

"I know," Blair quietly replied. "But you were great with those kids, especially with Suzie. You made her smile. She was so happy."

Jim pulled back slightly and looked at Blair. "But I'm not even a real prince. It was all a huge lie."

"No. That's not true." Blair shook his head. "You brightened her day and gave her something to dream about for the little time she has left."

"You insisted that Mission Bay stay on the schedule," Jim said. "You're really the one responsible for making Suzie happy."

"We did it together, Jim." Blair replied. "We make a good team."

"Yeah. We do," Jim replied, his voice husky. 

Blair smiled up at him, and there was warmth in his eyes. Warmth and that ever-present heat of desire. Jim reached up and brushed his knuckles against Blair's face. Watching Blair with those kids today, Jim realized what a truly beautiful, caring, selfless person he was. He felt his chest fill with a warm, tender emotion. He let the feeling fill him and, much to his shock, he recognized it for what it was. Love. He was in love with Blair Sandburg.

He drew Blair back into his arms and lowered his head, taking the full lips in a hungry kiss. It felt amazing, and Jim wanted to devour him -- to become one with him. He kissed Blair over and over again, slowly and tenderly until Blair deepened their kiss by slipping his tongue into Jim's mouth. The sensation was pure pleasure, and a groan escaped from low in his throat. 

This was so right. So incredibly right. Holding Blair, kissing him, their two hearts beating in unison. And Jim knew with frightening clarity what he had been denying to himself since the moment he first saw Blair. 

He wanted him. 

Wanted him in his life. 

Wanted him as his Guide.

He wanted to make long, passionate love to him. Wanted to possess him, to own his heart as completely as Blair owned his.

For the first time in his life, Jim knew what it felt like to be in love. It was something he never allowed himself before, and it felt amazing.

The sound of a voice being cleared was loud in the quiet room, and Blair jumped back, out of Jim's arms. When he looked up, he saw Agent Vickers standing in the doorway, trying to hide the look of disgust on his face and doing a lousy job of it.

"We need to get going. The plane is waiting," Vickers said as two more agents entered the room.

Jim turned to Blair and looked into his eyes, trying to read what the other man was thinking. He wanted to ask Blair if he was feeling the same way Jim felt. But he couldn't because they were no longer alone. The expression in Blair's eyes was unreadable as he lowered his head, murmured an apology to Jim before heading toward the door.

Jim stood frozen in spot. _An apology?_ An apology was required for mistakes or accidents. Is that what Blair thought? That it was another mistake? Jim's heart sank as he realized that their kiss meant nothing to Blair. And he had the answer he'd been unable to ask. _He_ meant nothing to Blair. _God, I am such an idiot,_ Jim thought angrily, moving past the agents and into the hall.

***

They were in a private plane, on their way to Denver, Colorado, for a women's luncheon and a charity dinner ball. Blair sat three rows behind Jim on the opposite side. For about the hundredth time since they took off, he glanced across and up the aisle at Jim. 

Ever since they'd left Mission Bay Hospital, Jim had become extremely quiet. The fuse to his temper seemed much shorter than usual. He snapped at everyone and wouldn't utter a word unless spoken to, and even then they were usually just single syllable words. Even his own men from Alpha Squad who knew him best were keeping their distance.

Seeing that Jim was finally sitting alone, Blair moved up the aisle and slipped into the seat beside him. Jim slowly glanced over, his eyes wary. "Sandburg."

"You okay?" Blair asked quietly.

"Fine," Jim said briskly and looked away. 

Blair nodded, not sure what else to say. He wanted to mention their kiss, but didn't think the time was right. So he decided not to bring it up, at least not yet, anyway. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Blair spoke. "You know, you surprised me back at the hospital." Jim's head whipped around and Blair saw something flash across his eyes. "With the kids, I mean. I knew you spoke Spanish but not Russian. That little boy… what was his name?" 

"Pavel," Jim answered.

"Pavel. Right. That's him. He was so thrilled you could talk with him in his mother tongue."

Jim shrugged. "I'm a language specialist."

"How many languages do you speak?"

"Seven. Not including English," Jim replied evenly.

Blair's eyebrows rose to his forehead. "Whoa. Seven? I know Spanish and French, and since I've lived in Andorra, I've learned some Greek. But I can't imagine trying to remember seven languages. Which ones do you know?"

"Besides Spanish and Russian -- Arabic, French, Bengali, Mandarin and Quechua."

"Wow, that's amazing. I don't recognize Quechua."

"It's a language spoken in Peru," Jim explained.

Blair smiled to himself. Even though Jim was still tense, it was nice to hear him answering in full sentences, instead of the short, clipped ones.

"Were you there on a mission?" Blair asked.

"Yes."

When Jim didn't relinquish any more information, Blair continued, "I'd love to go there one day. What's the jungle like?"

"Hot, muddy, damn humid and filled with insects," Jim replied. Then he gave a little smile and got a wistful look on his face. "And beautiful. The jungle is so thick, it just envelops you. The plants are green and lush, the scent of the flowers intoxicating, the trees are huge and have these long vines hanging down from their branches."

Blair smiled. "It sounds amazing."

"It is, but it can also be deadly."

"Were you there very long?" When Jim gave him a strange, almost guarded look, Blair said, "Sorry. Is that classified?"

Jim was quiet for so long that Blair didn't think he was going to say any more but then he quietly said, "I was in Peru on a mission. My team and I were flying over the jungle when our chopper got shot down. There were nine of us on board and only three survived. Myself, Charlie and Mack."

"My God," Blair said, shocked. "Jim, I'm sorry. I had no idea. It must have been horrible. I can't imagine what it must have been like to lose your friends that way." 

Jim gave a small shrug. "It was rough, and the three of us were pretty banged up. We had some serious cuts, bruises and burns. I had a bad concussion, Mack broke his leg and Charlie, his arm. We lived in the jungle for eight months-"

"Whoa. Eight months?" Blair said, astounded.

"The army thought we were dead until they found our crash site via satellite. The image showed the chopper and six graves, so they sent in a team to recover the bodies and ascertain the status of the rest of us."

"It's amazing the three of you survived on your own with those injuries."

"We're trained to survive in almost any environment, for as long as it takes. But in this situation, we weren't alone."

When Blair looked at him, Jim explained, "There was a local tribe who found us. They took us to their village and tended our wounds."

"And you were able to communicate because you knew their language."

"Exactly…" Jim paused suddenly and closed his eyes. A look of pain creased his forehead and he lowered his head to rub at his temples with his fingers.

"You all right?" Blair asked, resting his hand on the top of Jim's thigh.

"I'm fine. Flying always affects my sens-" Jim cleared his throat, "my sinuses." He looked at Blair's hand then shifted his gaze to meet Blair's. 

"Jim… I wanted to talk to you about what happened at Mission Bay. About what happened between you and me-"

"Forget about it," Jim interrupted, his eyes guarded as he looked at Blair. "It didn't mean anything, and I know you won't let it happen again. No more mistakes, right?" he said bitterly. "There's no need to talk about it. In fact, I'd rather just forget it ever happened." He turned away and gazed out the window of the plane.

Blair stared at him then snatched his hand away as the words began to sink in. 

_It didn't mean anything?_ How could Jim say that? Their kiss had been more than just a kiss. It had been filled with the most incredible, powerful feelings he had ever felt with another person. Well, maybe that kiss had meant nothing to Jim, but it sure as hell meant everything to Blair. 

Without sparing Jim another glance, Blair got up and went back to his seat.

***

_Denver, Colorado_

The women's luncheon went off without a hitch. Jim had played the role of Prince Alvaro perfectly, and in no time at all, had every woman there infatuated with him. The women weren't the only ones infatuated. Blair hadn't been able to take his eyes off Jim the whole time he'd been watching him from the surveillance van. He kept replaying over and over in his mind the incredible way he'd felt when Jim had kissed him at the hospital, and he came to a shocking realization. He was falling in love with Captain James Ellison. But the feeling was made bittersweet by what Jim had said to him on the plane. 

With the luncheon finished and a few hours to kill before the charity ball, Blair had gone back to his room and now he lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

How could Jim believe the kiss they shared didn't mean anything? Blair was sure Jim was feeling the same attraction, the same soul-deep connection as he did. He knew that Jim desired him. Saw it every time he looked into the Jim's eyes. And he knew, without a doubt, that if they had been alone and somewhere private, that kiss would have escalated into lovemaking.

"But Jim doesn't love me." Blair sighed. "So now what do I do?" The ceiling he'd been watching so intently held no answers, so he sat up, rested back against the headboard and stared at his reflection in the dresser's mirror across from him, hoping for some profound epiphany to hit him. "What was it exactly that Jim had said?" Blair asked his mirror self. _"It didn't mean anything… I know you won't let it happen again."_

He sat up straight and looked himself in the eyes.

" _I know you won't let it happen again,_ " he slowly repeated. " _ **You** won't…_ Not _we_ , but _you._ Does Jim think I'm the one who doesn't want this relationship to progress?" He got off the bed and went to stand before the mirror. Placing his hands on the top of the dresser, he leaned in closer to his reflection and smiled. "If Jim thinks I don't want a relationship with him, then I'm just going to have to set him straight."

***

Jim stood off to the side of the large reception room, speaking easily in Russian with Mikhail and Alina Abramovich, the host and hostess of tonight's charity ball.

Mikhail Abramovich was a friendly, likable man. He was only a few years older than Jim and had accomplished a great deal for a man of his age. Mikhail had been drafted into the Soviet army and after his service finished, he concentrated his business on trading oil products out of Russia and was now renowned as one of the world's richest oil tycoons. He also founded the charitable foundation, Pole of Hope, which sends shipments of food aid to Chukotka, an impoverished northeastern region of Russia, and this led to him being elected as governor of that area.

Alina Abramovich was charming and gracious, and one of the most beautiful women Jim had ever met. She was tall, and elegant, with long, wavy blonde hair, stunning green eyes that danced with mischief and an infectious laugh. And Jim learned that Alina just happened to know Blair, having met each other at Rainer University. They had quickly become good friends and although they hadn't seen each other since Blair had moved to Andorra, they still kept in touch.

God, at times like these, Jim felt like such a liar.

"Where is Blair, Your Highness?" Alina asked politely.

"He was not ready when it was time for me to leave the hotel," Jim replied in Alvaro's royal accent. "I am sure he will arrive soon."

This evening it was Ambassador Young who had taken up position in the surveillance vehicle, ready to provide names and facts if the need arose. But Jim wished Blair was the one talking into his ear. Although this event was not open to the general public and was therefore considered low-risk, Jim was still on edge. He liked knowing Blair was safely tucked away in the van and away from danger. He knew that tonight he'd be spending most of his time tracking Blair with his senses and praying he'd be safe.

"Blair's just arrived." Jim heard Charlie's voice in his earpiece. He turned away from Alina to look toward the entrance, and it suddenly seemed as if the world around him had disappeared and there was only Blair. The man looked absolutely stunning. Blair was wearing a midnight-blue suit with a light-blue silk shirt that intensified his blue eyes, and a solid-blue tie that was a few shades darker than the shirt. His hair was neatly tied back which only further enhanced his exotic facial features, and he wore two sapphire stud earrings in his left ear. As Jim's eyes raked over Blair's body, desire and need hit him hard, washing over his body and coiling deep in his stomach.

"Tell me, Your Excellency," Alina whispered into Jim's ear, "does Blair know how you feel?"

"Pardon?" Jim asked, startled. 

She placed a hand lightly on his arm and said softly, "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." She gave him a knowing smile and crossed the room toward Blair. With his eyes still on Blair, Jim watched the two friends greet each other with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Excuse me, Your Mightiness," Mack said over Jim's earpiece, "but you might want to keep your tongue inside your mouth. Copy that?"

Although Jim couldn't see the members of his team, he knew they could see him, and he gave a slight nod of comprehension. Shit, he was in big trouble if he couldn't keep his reactions to Blair hidden. When the man in question began to head toward Jim, he tore his gaze away, turned abruptly and walked in the opposite direction. He needed to stay as far away from Blair as possible. 

He'd been trying everything within his power not to be in love with Blair. He didn't think it would be that hard, after all, he'd spent most of his adult life not being in love with anyone. How difficult could it be to get back to that state again?

Pretty damn difficult, he'd discovered.

He just couldn't turn his love on and off like a flick of a switch. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he was in love with Blair. Deeply in love -- but he could never let the other man know.

Moving out of the reception room, Jim entered the large ballroom. It was elegantly decorated. Two large crystal chandeliers hung over each end of the highly polished wooden dance floor. A live band was playing in one corner, and elegant furniture was placed around the edges of the room. Jim headed for a small bar that had been set up at the opposite end from the band and the bartender greeted him with a slight bow.

"Your Highness," the young man said. "What can I get for you?"

Right at this moment, he'd do almost anything for a beer, but instead he asked for a ginger ale. Suddenly, Jim's senses sharpened, and he felt a tingling under his skin. He didn't have to turn around to know who was standing behind him.

"I'll have the same," Blair said.

Jim briefly closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of the man to wash over him -- to fill every cell of his being. Schooling his features into passivity, Jim turned around. 

"Hello, Your Highness," Blair addressed formally and smiled softly up at him, his eyes seeming to sparkle and dance. And once again it struck Jim how unbelievably beautiful Blair was, and how much he wanted to take him in his arms and kiss him.

"Mr. Sandburg. How are you this evening?" he replied, his voice sounding hoarse and not very much like Alvaro's. He cleared his throat before moistening his lips and noticed Blair's eyes following the movement of his tongue.

"I'm well, thank you." Blair smiled and as he turned to watch the dancers on the dance floor, his arm brushed against Jim's. "Sorry," he apologized and moved away slightly. But when it happened again, Jim knew damn well it wasn't an accident. There was no doubt about it, Blair was coming on to him. And it was done so subtly there was no way the cameras and microphones could pick it up.

Blair's fingers slowly slid against the back of Jim's hand and continued to move until they brushed his palm. "You know," Blair whispered so only Jim could hear, "if we were alone, I'd take you in my arms and dance with you." Their eyes met, and something flamed, something so hot and powerful that it seared Jim's very soul. He could see the fire of desire flickering in Blair's eyes, and his pulse began to race. Jim was about to answer back when suddenly, from somewhere in the room, came a loud pop and crash.

Reacting immediately, Jim yanked Blair into his arms, shielding him with his body. What the hell was he thinking, standing here next to Blair as if he weren't the target of an assassin? Blair was close enough that any bullets that were meant for him could easily end Blair's life in less than a heartbeat.

"It's okay, El." Charlie's voice came over Jim's earpiece. "We do not have a situation. Repeat, there is no situation. Someone just dropped a glass."

For a split second, Jim pulled Blair even closer, closed his eyes and held the smaller body tightly against him before letting go. Adrenaline flowed through his system, causing his entire body to vibrate. God, he'd never been so scared… Just the thought of losing Blair nearly drove him to his knees.

Blair lightly touched his arm. "You all right?" he asked with a small smile.

Jim took a step back. "No, I'm not all right, Sandburg," he hissed, his tone abrupt. He didn't even try to disguise his voice with Alvaro's accent. "I want you to stay the hell away from me."

Blair's face fell and his smile faded. "I thought… Never mind." He turned and briskly walked away but not before Jim saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. 

Jim immediately realized his mistake -- Blair thought Jim was rejecting him. "Shit," he muttered and turned to call Blair back, but the man was nowhere in sight. He reached out with his senses, trying to pick out Blair's unique scent, but with no luck. There were too many people, and it would take him too long to sort out all the different smells. Hurrying out of the ballroom and into the main reception room, Jim quickly scanned the area, still not finding Blair. He saw Alina talking with a group of women and headed toward them, intending to ask if they had seen him.

"Code Red. I repeat. Code Red," Mack's voice called out over Jim's earpiece. "Open window on the second floor. Possible break-in. Jim, get the hell out of there now! This is not a drill."

"Get out!" Jim yelled at Alina and the women standing with her. "You need to get out of here. Now!" Having been warned of a possible assassination attempt, Alina reacted instantly and she quickly led the group of women toward an exit at the back of the building. Jim whipped his head around, searching for Blair in the scrambling crowd of people, but he didn't see him anywhere. "Charlie, do you see Blair?" he said into his microphone as he pulled out a handgun he'd kept hidden beneath his jacket.

"Negative. I don't see him, El," Charlie replied. "I'll keep looking. You get your ass out of there."

"Not until I know he's safe." With his gun raised, Jim burst into the kitchen. A man in a white chef's uniform looked up at him in shock and raised his hands, eyes glued to Jim's weapon. "Get out!" Jim ordered him. "We've got trouble." Quickly, the chef scurried for the back door.

A new voice suddenly came over Jim's earpiece. "Ellison. This is Agent Zachary Monero. Blair is safe. He left in a limo a few minutes ago to go back to the hotel. You need to head to the emergency escape vehicle immediately."

"Double-check that info, Alpha Squad," Jim said, trusting no one but his team to give him the correct information.

"Info verified," Bob Brown's calm voice answered. "Blair has left the building. I suggest you do the same, Jim."

Huge relief filled Jim, knowing that Blair was safe. The relief mixed with adrenaline, making him almost light-headed. Holding his gun up, Jim pushed open a door at the end of the kitchen and went inside. He glanced around, noting that the small storage area was empty.

"Kitchen is cleared," Jim said over his mic and headed back through the kitchen.

"Jim. Get the hell out of there," Mack said. "We've got this situation under control."

"No way," Jim replied, slowly opening the door to the large living room. "I'm not letting you guys have all the fun." He swore under his breath when he saw eight FedSec agents heading in his direction. Within seconds, he was surrounded. Vickers and Monero took up place on either side of Jim, shielding him with their own bodies and ushering him toward the back door.

Outside, a large black car sat waiting with its engine running. Vickers yanked the door open and climbed into the backseat, pulling Jim in behind him. Monero quickly followed and before the door was even closed, the car took off in a squeal of tires down the narrow alleyway and out onto the dark city street.

***

Blair stood at the large windows in his hotel room, staring out at the lights of downtown Denver. "Well, I sure made an idiot out of myself this evening." He laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the empty room. 

He'd gone to the event this evening with every intention of seducing Jim. To subtly let the other man know that Blair wanted him. And he had planned on inviting Jim back to his room when the evening came to a close. It was a good plan, really. Except for one small detail. In order for the plan to work, Jim would have to want Blair as well.

He swore that he'd seen desire in Jim's eyes when Jim looked at him in that ballroom, but it was pretty darn obvious that he had been mistaken.

Not able to bear the silence for another minute, Blair turned away from the window and went to switch on the radio to a station that played classic ballads.

Pulling off his suit jacket, Blair tossed it onto the sofa then loosened his tie, letting it slip from his fingers to drop on the coffee table. He undid the first three buttons of his shirt, popped the buttons open on the cuffs and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Walking over to the bar, Blair got a beer out of the small fridge and twisted off the top.

"I'll have the same."

Blair spun around, nearly dropping his bottle onto the carpet. Jim was standing a few feet away, leaning with his back against the closed door. He moved forward, coming up to Blair. He took the beer bottle from Blair’s hand, tipped his head back and took a long sip.

"What are you doing here?" Blair asked, his heart pounding. "It's only nine o'clock. The party wasn't supposed to end until midnight."

Jim shrugged. "There was an incident."

"What?" Blair's racing heart jumped in fear, and he took an involuntary step toward Jim. "What type of incident? Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?"

"Whoa. Easy, Chief." Jim held up a hand. "It was a false alarm. One of the women from the party was smoking in the bathroom. She opened the window and forgot to close it when she was finished."

"Thank God it wasn't anything serious," Blair said.

Jim smiled at him and began to move closer, one step at a time. Blair stayed frozen in place, not having the strength to back away.

"You know something?" Jim asked, his voice husky. Unable to find his voice, Blair just shook his head. "I never got to tell you how amazing you looked tonight. When you walked into the reception hall, I was blown away." The warmth in Jim's eyes quickly turned to fire. "You're gorgeous," he whispered. Reaching out, Jim gently laid the palm of his hand against the side of Blair's face, and he felt Jim's thumb lightly brush along his cheek.

Briefly, Blair closed his eyes at the intimate touch. "Jim. Don't," he whispered. "You don't have to do this. It was stupid of me to come on to you like I did."

"What do you think I meant when I told you to stay away from me?" Blair tried to look away, but a hand caught his chin and turned his face until he met Jim's eyes. "I said what I did because I realized how dangerous it was for you to be around me."

"What do you want from me?" Blair asked, holding Jim's gaze.

"I want to dance with you." When Blair's eyes widened in surprise, Jim smiled and said, "Tonight you said that if we were alone, you'd dance with me. So. Here we are. Together. Alone," he whispered. Jim pulled him closer, wrapping strong, powerful arms around him. Slowly, they began to move, swaying in time to the soft ballad playing over the radio. 

Blair felt a burst of hope and happiness rush through him. Was it possible Jim wanted him as badly as he wanted Jim? His question was answered when Jim lowered his head and lifted Blair's chin, taking his mouth in a kiss. He was pulled even closer as Jim slowly and sensually explored his lips with his own. Blair opened his mouth to him, inviting Jim to deepen their kiss. 

They continued to dance, their bodies brushing and sliding together and against his stomach, Blair could feel the hardness of Jim's unmistakable desire. "God, Jim. I want you," Blair said breathlessly.

"I need to tell you something." Jim's voice was a ragged whisper.

"Later," Blair replied and tugged Jim's head down to kiss him. This time it was harder and stronger as he swept his tongue fiercely into Jim's mouth. The tie holding his hair was unfastened, and Jim slid his hand into Blair’s hair, tilting Blair's head back to kiss him even deeper before they slid down his back to grab and squeeze his ass, pressing their hips tightly together. They both groaned when their erections pushed against each other.

Jim tugged at Blair's shirt, pulled it out his pants and slipped a hand under the fabric to caress the bare skin of his back. "Blair," Jim breathed between kisses. "You don't know how long I've wanted to touch you like this."

"Probably as long as I've wanted to touch you." Blair's fingers went to the buttons on Jim's shirt and began to frantically undo them. He pushed the shirt off Jim's shoulders and before it touched the ground, Blair was running his hands over silky smooth skin. Closing his eyes briefly, he reveled in the feel of the hard muscles in Jim's chest and shoulders and arms. "God," he said, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue. "You're amazing." Jim's smile turned hot and Blair was momentarily lost in the heat of his eyes. "What do you want, Jim?"

"I want to touch every inch of you," Jim growled hungrily. "Want to bury myself deep inside you."

"Yes," Blair hissed and reached for Jim, kissing him. He then took a step back and crooked a finger at him. "Come on." Hooking two fingers into the waistband of Jim's slacks, Blair walked backward into the bedroom, tugging the other man along with him. When they reached the bed, he unfastened the button on Jim's pants while Jim undid the buttons on Blair's shirt. They took their time undressing one another, touching and savoring every inch of flesh that was revealed.

With his clothes removed, Blair stood before Jim, his lover burning him with his eyes as they raked over his naked body. He was taking in his fill of Jim as well. The man's shoulders were broad and solid. Arms strong and powerful. Chest wide, and free of hair. His stomach muscles were tight and clearly defined, his hips narrow and his legs looked as strong as steel. Blair memorized every inch of the magnificent body, right down to the two scars on Jim's shoulder and the one on his left thigh. His eyes roamed hungrily over Jim one more time before coming to rest on his groin. Jim's cock stood proud and stiff, curving up toward his body and Blair shuddered in excitement at the thought of Jim thrusting into his body.

He looked up to find Jim watching him, a sexy smile playing across his lips. Blair returned the smile then moved to the bed, yanking back the covers. Lying on his back, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Get over here."

Jim grinned and in an instant, he was sliding in next to Blair. Blair was embraced by strong arms, and Jim began to kiss and touch him. Licking and sucking at his nipples, paying special attention to the nipple pierced with a silver ring, running large hands over his body, filling his mouth with a hot, slick tongue. His skin tingled everywhere Jim touched him. It was pure ecstasy. Never in his life had he ever felt anything like this before. It was the hottest, most powerful passion he had ever known.

Reaching down between their bodies, Blair took Jim's cock in his hand. Using his fingers, he slid them up and down Jim's length, hearing his lover cry out in pleasure. With his other hand, Blair fumbled on the top of nightstand for his tube of aloe hand cream. Quickly, he snatched it up and pressed it into Jim's hand.

"In me, Jim. Want you in me," he panted. "I'm clean. Haven't been with anyone in a long time. I- I've never… I mean, you'll be the first."

Jim's eyes widened in surprise before they filled with warmth and love, and a sweet, heart-melting smile spread across his face. Leaning over Blair, Jim claimed his mouth in a long, slow kiss that turned his muscles to jelly. Pulling back, Jim grabbed a pillow, placing it in the center of the bed. He then carefully maneuvered Blair over onto his stomach with the pillow under his hips.

A finger slick with cream brushed against Blair's opening, stimulating the area for a few seconds before slowly pushing inside. He moaned at the odd yet pleasurable sensations. It felt good. It felt damn good. "More," he groaned, pushing back onto Jim's finger. He wanted more. He wanted all of Jim. 

"Gonna make you feel so good," Jim whispered in his ear.

"Yes. Please." Blair panted.

Slowly and gently Jim prepared Blair, not moving on until he seemed satisfied that Blair was ready for more. Then he felt his ass cheeks being spread apart and the heat of Jim's cock push against him. Slowly, so very slowly, his lover slid into him, stopping when he seemed to know that it was uncomfortable for him and only moving again when Blair groaned in pleasure. Once Jim had filled him completely, he pulled back out before thrusting back in again, deliberately setting a slow rhythm. On the next thrust, the head of Jim's cock pushed against his prostate and Blair cried out in pleasure. The sensations flowing through him felt absolutely incredible.

"Jim!" Blair shouted, clutching at the bed sheets. "More! Faster!"

His body was covered by Jim's larger one, and a kiss was placed behind his ear before his lover once again pulled out of him. But this time instead of sliding in slowly, Jim jabbed his hips forward, plunging into Blair, filling him again, and again, and again. Their rhythm grew frantic and intense, and Blair yelled Jim's name as sensation after sweet sensation exploded inside him as his release shot through him.

"Mine!" Jim suddenly cried out. "Need to make you mine. My Guide!"

At those words, Blair felt something stir deep within him, some primal instinct that made him answer back, "Yes! Yes, yours. Always, yours. My Sentinel!"

Jim's hands covered Blair's wrists, pinning him down, and in a final thrust, Jim filled him. He rode his lover's explosive release, letting Jim's passion carry him higher and higher.

Suddenly, a burst of heat sizzled up through his body. It started at his feet, traveled up his legs and into his torso then moved farther up into his arms and hands, across his shoulders, up his neck and into his head. Sparks danced before his eyes with a dizzying effect then, in a bright flash, it was gone, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in its wake.

Jim collapsed onto the bed beside Blair, pulling him into a strong embrace. Snuggling closer, Blair lay his head down on the muscular chest, listening to the wild beating of Jim's heart. Besides the sounds of their ragged breaths, the room was quiet.

Blair didn't speak. His thoughts were flying in a million directions, making it hard to think straight. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to explain what had just happened. The silence stretched on and on until his thoughts finally came together to form one sentence. "Jim, what's a Sentinel?"

***

For the first time in his life, Blair was speechless. He sat on the sofa, staring at Jim who stood, looking out the balcony windows, not saying a word.

They had gotten out of bed, donned the hotel robes and wandered into the living room. Then Jim had proceeded to explain everything that happened after his chopper went down in Peru. He explained all about his amazing senses, about the Chopec and Incacha. Explained exactly what a Sentinel was and how every Sentinel had a Guide. And apparently, according to Jim, Blair was a Guide -- more specifically, Jim's Guide. And now that they'd made love, and Jim had filled him with his seed, they were a partially bonded pair. All they needed to do, in order to become fully bonded, was go back to bed and allow Blair to take Jim. 

Blair ran his hands over his face. This was all a little overwhelming. No. Scratch that. It was majorly overwhelming. But in all this confusion, there was one thing Blair knew for certain. He knew he cared about Jim. Knew he was falling in love with the man. And he also knew that he would have to decide if he wanted to be bonded to Jim. If he wanted to share his life with a man who faced danger, who risked his life, day in and day out. A man who could die violently at any given moment. 

Blair pushed all those thoughts from his mind. Right now, all he wanted to do was go over to the tall, stoic figure standing silent and miserable by the glass doors and wrap his arms around him. Their lovemaking had been incredible and breathtakingly beautiful, and amongst everything Jim had revealed tonight, Blair didn't want it to diminish what they had just shared.

Standing up, Blair went over to Jim, stopping in front of him. Jim turned his head to look at Blair, but didn't quite meet his eyes. Reaching out, he slowly trailed a finger down Jim's arm, feeling the muscles go tense.

"Hey," Blair said, glancing up with a small smile. "It's okay."

"No. It's not." Jim shook his head. "I should have told you. Should never have let it go as far as it did." He ran hand over his hair. "But, God help me, I wanted you. Wanted you so badly that I couldn't stop."

Stepping a little closer, Blair placed his hands on Jim's chest. "Jim, I want you to listen to me. I wanted you tonight, too. I don't regret one second of what we did."

"What about this Sentinel/Guide thing?" Jim quietly asked, sounding afraid of what the answer would be.

"I admit it's a bit of a shock-"

Jim snorted. "Just a bit, huh?"

"Okay," Blair chuckled, "it was extremely shocking. But what you told me about your senses, and the whole Sentinel/Guide dynamic, is so… man, it is so incredibly amazing. Are you sure about me being your Guide?"

"No doubt about it, Chief," Jim said. His voice turned low and intense when he continued, "I would be honored to have you as my Guide."

"You just need to give me a little time to absorb it all and figure out what I want to do. Can you do that? Can you give me some time?"

"Take all the time you need." 

"Thank you." Blair slid his hands up around Jim's neck. "But while I'm deciding, that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah?" Jim smirked and put his arms around Blair's waist. "And what kind of fun would that be?"

"Hmm… Let me see. How about a little of this?" Blair pulled Jim's head down and took his mouth in a long, hard kiss. "Or maybe, a little of this…" He kissed a path along Jim's jaw then down his throat. "Or perhaps… a whole lot of this…" Grabbing hold of the lapels of Jim's bathrobe, Blair tugged him down to the carpet, covering his lover's body with his own and claiming his mouth once again.

***

The next two weeks of the tour passed in a blur as they flew from city to city. During the day and occasionally in the evenings, Blair would sit in the surveillance vehicle, sending Jim the information he needed through his earpiece. And the whole time, Blair found himself praying that the man he was in love with wasn't about to be killed right in front of his eyes. Seeming to pick up on Blair's anxiety, Jim would, when he had a chance, look into the miniature video camera he wore on his lapel and smile. And it wasn't just any smile. It was a hot, sensual smile meant only for Blair.

At night, Jim would come to Blair's room. It baffled him how Jim had slipped past the FedSec agents and got into his locked room. But then again, Jim was a Sentinel, which probably made it easy for him to avoid detection. And the funny thing was, Blair usually knew when Jim was coming. He'd get this odd tingling sensation that hummed through his body and sure enough, a few moments later, Jim would appear in his room, smiling at him with an undeniable heat in his eyes. 

After their first night together as lovers, they had agreed to continue being intimate, with Jim being the one to always penetrate Blair. Jim never once pressured him about his decision, staying true to his word about giving Blair as much time as he needed. He still was unsure what he wanted to do. He loved Jim. That was a given. It was becoming Jim's Guide that he was having a hard time accepting.

That same night in Colorado, he and Jim had talked at length about what it meant to be a fully bonded Sentinel and Guide. Blair had learned that once they were bonded, they were bonded for life. It was a huge decision, a huge commitment, and it was something Blair didn't want to rush into headlong.

At the end of the first week, after a long, event-filled day, Jim had shown up in Blair's hotel room, wearing faded blue-jeans, a black t-shirt and a Cascade Jags cap, and he was carrying a bag of Chinese food and a six-pack of beer. When Blair had inquired about the food, Jim just shrugged and smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Blair didn't say anything, but he was pretty damn sure that Jim had been hotel climbing again. Going down the outside of the building, walking the few blocks to the restaurant, and getting back in without anyone ever knowing. They'd eaten their food at the coffee table while watching a basketball game on the television and when it was over, they'd made hot, passionate love on the sofa.

Jim always stayed with Blair until the early morning, just before dawn. Sometimes they would talk all night, sometimes they'd sleep snuggled together, but they always woke up to make love again. And, just as the sun began to rise, Jim would kiss him before slipping away.

Then, in Atlanta, Georgia, there was an incident that shook Blair deeply. Jim had just left the television studio where he'd been interviewed when a FedSec agent thought he saw a man in the crowd with a concealed weapon. Blair sat in the surveillance van, tense and terrified, his heart pounding in his ears, watching on the screen as Alpha Squad and the FedSec agents leapt into action. They'd surrounded Jim and rushed him into one of the strategically placed get-away cars. 

Blair had been brought back to the hotel, waiting and praying that Jim would arrive soon. And that's when the small seed of doubt had begun to take form. How could he commit to a man whose life was constantly filled with danger and risk. Even if Jim were to survive this assignment, it would only be a matter of time before he'd be facing a new, more dangerous mission.

"Blair?"

Blair spun around to see Jim standing just inside the door, still wearing Alvaro's royal attire. He looked tired, but he smiled at Blair. And all Blair could do was stay frozen in place and stare at Jim. His whole body began to tremble, while wave after wave of relief crashed over him.

Jim hurried across the room, gathered Blair into his arms and held him tightly. "It's okay, Chief," he soothed. "I'm okay."

"For now," Blair whispered and pulled back to look at Jim.

"Yeah. For now," Jim replied, running fingertips along Blair's jaw.

Blair couldn't hold himself back from asking, "But what about tomorrow?" 

"How do you want me to answer that?" Jim asked softly. "You know my job is dangerous, but I have Charlie and the rest of Alpha Squad watching my back."

"Do you have any idea how scared I was today?" A shiver ran through Blair at the thought of Jim dying. Reaching up, he brought Jim's head down and kissed him -- hard, desperately, and Jim instantly responded by pulling Blair tight against his body and grinding their hips together. Blair got a hand between them and began to frantically unfasten the buckle of Jim's belt. 

Blair tried to shut out his fears by concentrating on the feel of Jim's hands and mouth on his body. There was only this moment, only the here and now -- only ecstasy.

By the time morning dawned, Blair still hadn't slept. And just like he always did, Jim crept from the bed and dressed before kissing Blair gently on the lips. 

Then, once again, Jim was gone, and Blair was left wondering if today was the day that Jim would be ripped from his life forever.

***

_Austin, Texas_

Two days had passed between Atlanta and Austin, and no attempt had been made on Jim's life. He wasn't sure if he should be glad or disappointed. On one hand, he was glad because he got to spend more time with Blair. But on the other hand, he was disappointed because they hadn't yet caught Vargas Matos and his group of terrorists.

Looking out the window of the limousine, Jim squinted into the bright sunshine reflecting off the parking lot. He was grateful for the darkly tinted sunglasses he wore. Without them the intense brightness would have played havoc on his sense of sight. And he needed every one of his senses working at their absolute best, because Jim was almost one hundred percent sure that this was the site where the assassin would make his move.

The Granville Arts Center was the perfect location. Broad steps led up to the large, square, outdoor courtyard. The yard was surrounded on three sides by the center's main buildings. Two of the buildings housed elegant theaters, which were surrounded by outdoor balconies on every level. The third building, named The Atrium, was a brand new, 6,500 square foot convention center and was encased on three sides by floor to ceiling glass walls.

Directly outside The Atrium, in the courtyard, a stage had been erected. And it was where Jim would be situated during the convention center's dedication ceremony.

From his seat in the limo, Jim could see that a large crowd had already gathered, milling around and fanning themselves with copies of the events schedule leaflet.

As he sat there waiting, Jim could hear, in his earpiece, Blair and Alpha Squad as they did a microphone check. He smiled, thinking how easily Blair had won over his team. Charlie, Mack and Bob were the only ones who knew where Jim went at night. He had to tell them because he needed their help in getting out from under the watchful eyes of the FedSec agents. Besides the teasing he endured when the four soldiers were alone, Jim knew his three friends were truly happy for him. And he knew they would never tell a soul about his relationship with Blair.

Since their first night together as lovers, Jim and Blair had become almost inseparable, spending every minute of their off-time together. A bond had definitely formed between them that had nothing to do with the partial bonding that had happened between Sentinel and Guide. However, Jim had noticed a slight change in Blair ever since the incident in Atlanta. He knew it had really shaken Blair. But whenever he tried to bring up the subject, Blair didn't want to talk about it. All he wanted was for Jim to hold him and then make love to him again. And even though the way Blair made love to him was hot and passionate and powerful, there also seemed to be a desperation to it. Each time they were in bed together, it was as if Blair felt it was the last time he'd ever make love to Jim again.

More than once, Jim wondered if it would ease Blair's fears if he told Blair that he wanted them to commit to one another. His feelings for Blair ran deep. He was in love with the man and wanted them to spend the rest of their lives together. Only… Only Jim wasn't absolutely sure if Blair was in love with him. He knew Blair cared about him, was concerned for his safety. And he knew, through his senses, that Blair was attracted to him. Pheromones poured from him every time he so much as looked at Jim. But was he as deeply in love with Jim as Jim was with him? That was the million dollar question. God, what he wouldn't give to hear Blair say that he loved him.

"Captain?" A hand shook his arm, and Jim blinked to see Agent Monero looking at him.

"I'm sorry. What?" Jim asked. Damn, he was distracted today. That was not a good thing. He needed to pay attention, to be aware of everything that was going on around him. 

"It's time," Monero replied.

"Let's go," Jim answered. He waited for Monero to open the door and step out before Jim followed him. 

As they walked up the wide cement staircase, Jim got a better look of the area and snapped instantly alert. This was it. The setting was perfect. With the large crowd, the news cameras and reporters. The three buildings forming a square U, with the outdoor courtyard in the middle. The bright glare of the sun and the heat making everyone tired and languid. The Granville Arts Center was the ideal setup for an assassination attempt. 

"This is it," Jim murmured, knowing his voice would be picked up by the microphone he wore.

"I agree, El." Jim heard Charlie through his earpiece. "If I were a tango, I'd pick this place."

"What?" Blair asked in a rush. "What did you say?"

Jim wanted to answer Blair, to erase the fear he heard in his voice, but he couldn't. Governor Dick Perry was approaching with an outstretched hand.

"Welcome, Your Highness," Governor Perry greeted. "It's a real honor to meet you."

While he shook the governor's hand, Jim heard Blair say, "Oh, my God. You think the assassin is going to be here, don't you?"

Blair had to know he couldn't answer. Everything that was going on was being broadcast onto the screen in the surveillance van. And Blair would be able to hear that the governor was still talking. He smiled at something the man said, but his mind was focused on Blair and the voices of his men.

"Damn it, Jim," Blair said, his voice breaking. "Move your head. Yes or no. Is there going to be an assassination attempt here?"

While talking to the governor, Jim looked directly at one of the FedSec agents, who wore a miniature camera hidden in a pin on his lapel and slowly nodded in answer to Blair's question. He heard his lover's sharp inhale of breath just before Bob Brown spoke up.

"So far the rooftops are tango free." Bob was set up on the roof of the second theater, opposite The Atrium, with a pair of high-powered binoculars and a long-range, high-powered rifle. He was doing visual sweeps of all three roofs, reporting in continuously. 

"You're wasting your time up there," Vickers said impatiently from his place in front of the first building's main theater doors. "We've got the buildings sealed up tight. No one is getting onto any of the roofs. We could use you down here in the crowd instead."

"If you think this shooter is going to be standing in the crowd, you're a bigger idiot than I thought," Bob said. "Unless my captain tells me otherwise, I'm staying exactly where I am."

Jim couldn't help but smile; it was a relief knowing his men were watching his back. 

"Shall we go to the stage?" the governor asked Jim.

"Yes," Jim answered. "I am ready."

As two FedSec agents led him up the stairs, a band began to loudly play, making Jim wince and dial down his hearing a few notches, but not so low that he couldn't hear the voices in his earpiece.

"Jim," Blair said. "Jim, I need to tell you something… I want you to know… I love you, Jim."

Right after the words were spoken, Jim felt a heat surge up from inside him, right from the center of his chest, from his heart.

Blair Sandburg loved him.

Jim put a hand over his mouth trying to disguise his laugh with a cough. Blair loved him and had just announced it to everyone working on this operation.

"Hell, Blair. Don't go telling him that _now_ ," Charlie admonished. "Jim needs to concentrate. Come on, El, keep focused."

"I'm sorry," Blair replied, sounding both lost and terrified.

Jim touched a finger to his ear, trying to communicate to Blair that he had heard him and wished there was a way he could say he loved him back. Coming up with an idea, Jim brought his hand up to touch his chest -- over his heart -- hoping that Blair would see and understand his silent message.

"Stop grinning like a damn fool, Ellison, and get to work." Jim heard Mack's voice through his earphone.

Instantly, Jim's training kicked in, and he was focused again. He checked the area around the stage, making sure the 'cover' zones were where FedSec said they would be located.

The wide podium had been reinforced, as well as down behind the back of the stage, and both would act as a shield if needed. There was a wooden railing running around two sides and the back of the platform, but that could easily be jumped over as the stage was only six feet from the ground.

Jim scanned the large crowd of about three hundred people. There were at least six different television stations present, all filming live for the evening news. His senses began to tingle and Jim knew, without a doubt, that the assassin wouldn't fire until he stepped up to the podium.

"The roof is still clear," Bob announced. "Keep an eye on that crowd, FedSec."

Jim sat in the chair appointed for the prince, his senses on full alert, as the governor was the first to approach the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen and honored guests, I want to thank you all for coming out to the dedication ceremony. The Atrium could never have been accomplished without the commitment and creativity of the founder and Executive Director of the Granville Art Center, Mrs. Stephanie Riggs. This beautifully appointed 6,500-square-foot building has been a long-awaited addition to the center. The structure will be an elegant venue for banquets, receptions, weddings, trade shows, exhibits and conventions.

"I want to thank everyone involved in the construction of this facility. From the hard work of the hundreds of workers and craftsmen, to the dedicated committee members and especially to you, the people of Granville, for your continued support of the Arts Center."

When the governor paused, the crowd loudly applauded, making Jim grimace from the noise.

"Without further ado," Governor Perry continued, "I'd like to introduce our special guest, Prince Alvaro Badran of Andorra. And thank him for taking part in our dedication ceremony."

Once again the crowd erupted, the sound drowning out the comments of Alpha Squad and the FedSec agents. Jim stood up, and the governor stepped aside, allowing him to move close to the podium, and he raised both hands to silence the crowd.

"Thank you," Jim said with a smile. "It is an honor for me to be here today."

"Still got zip on the roof tops," Bob said. "I'm beginning to wonder if the assassin is here at-"

Suddenly a shot rang out.

One of the huge glass windows in front of The Atrium building shattered, raining pieces of debris down onto the people and the stage.

The crowd erupted, screaming and running in all directions.

As Jim ducked down behind the podium, he heard Blair yell his name and could also hear all three men of Alpha Squad reporting in, all talking at once. 

"The roofs are still clear," Bob shouted over the noise. "No shooter visible. Repeat no shooter visible."

"What do you mean you don't know where that came from?" Agent Monero yelled at his FedSec agents. "A shot was fired! It had to come from somewhere!"

There was another shot, and another window shattered into thousands of pieces. 

Jim heard and felt the impact of the second bullet as it sunk into the wooden stage just inches from his right leg. And that was when he knew. The shooter wasn't in front of him, but behind and inside The Atrium. With all the shielding on the stage facing outward and away from the building, Jim was a sitting duck. He couldn't believe he was still alive. That second shot should have killed him.

Whipping around, Jim used his sight, searching the Atrium for any sign of the assassin. Movement caught his eye, and he zeroed in on the gunman hiding in the shadows on the third floor balcony just above the lobby, tucked into an alcove of a doorway. The killer was dressed all in black, a ski mask hiding his face. Jim could see the high-powered rifle. Could see the man's trigger finger twitch, and Jim knew he was going to fire another bullet.

"Get down!" Jim yelled. As he dove off the front of the stage and landed safely on the ground, he began shouting instructions to his men and to the FedSec agents who were attempting to surround him. 

The blast from the shot could be heard over the noise, and Jim knew someone had been hit. He heard the impact of the bullet as it sunk into flesh and heard the person grunt in pain and fall to the ground.

"Agent down!" Vickers yelled, his normally composed voice clearly shaken. "Martin's been hit! I need a medic!"

Pushing past the agents guarding him, Jim began to run toward the building.

"Jim!" Blair cried. "What the hell are you doing? Get out of there! You're supposed to get to safety!"

"We need radio silence. Immediately," Charlie's voice commanded. "Except for reports on the tango's position."

Once inside the Atrium, Jim took cover directly under where the assassin had been. He saw Charlie and Mack in a doorway to his right. Not wanting to take the chance that the assassin was listening in on their radio frequency, Jim hand-signaled to his men. From this point on they would only communicate using hand-signals and sign language.

_You two okay?_ Jim asked.

_Fine,_ Charlie signed back. _You?_

_Good,_ Jim returned. Cautiously he made his way over to the two soldiers. Mack was holding an extra MP5 submachine gun and handed it over to Jim. 

The sound of another shot rang out, echoing throughout the building, and more chaos ensued as another agent was hit with flawless accuracy. 

_Let's go,_ Jim signaled to his men. _I'm on point._ Mack and Charlie nodded and followed Jim to the stairwell. Soundlessly, he opened the door, and they started up the stairs. When they reached the third floor, Jim held up his hand, signaling them to stop. He listened, and in a split second, his hearing picked up a rapid heartbeat coming from about a hundred feet away. Using sign language, Jim informed his men where the tango was situated. 

With deadly stealth, the three members of Alpha Squad advanced along the hallway, guns raised, fingers on the triggers of their guns. The balcony railing ran along their left, the wall on their right. The assassin was still situated in the alcove, and when Jim was within twenty feet, he came to a halt, his men following suit, taking up position behind him.

"Put your weapon down and step out where I can see you," Jim demanded. A full minute went by before the large, long-range rifle slid out of the alcove and across the floor. "Okay. That's the weapon. Now you. And keep your hands where I can see them." Slowly, the assassin stepped out into the hall, arms out at his sides. "Hold it right there, pal." The man froze and stared at Jim. Then, from one heartbeat to the next, the killer moved. Lightening quick, his hand went behind his back, pulling out a hand gun. He brought the weapon up fast, aiming it directly at Jim's head.

Gunfire erupted and a split second later the gunman fell, dead before he landed on the floor. Jim looked over his shoulder and sent Charlie a grateful nod.

"Alpha Squad, check in," Bob's voice demanded over the headphones. "Brown."

"Grey."

"Gerhardt."

"Ellison," Jim replied. "We're all clear. Tango has been terminated." He went over to the assassin, bent down and pulled off the ski mask. Expecting to see Vargas Matos staring up at him through dead eyes, he was surprised when he looked into the face of a man he did not recognize.

***

It was after nine at night by the time Blair finally got back to his hotel room. He walked into the living room and fell back onto the sofa. God, he was exhausted. All afternoon and into the evening, he had been in meetings and debriefings. He'd worked with Ambassador Young and Senator Kinsley, going over the remainder of the schedule for Prince Alvaro's tour. 

Information had been relayed to them, through one of the FedSec agents, which had them all breathing a sigh of relief. The assassin had been ID'd as Ramos Salazar. Former right-hand man to Vargas Matos -- _former_ being the operative word. Evidently the two terrorists had parted ways, and Salazar was no longer connected to Matos. For some reason Salazar had been acting on his own. No one was sure why -- at least not yet.

And now that the assassin no longer posed a threat, the senator and ambassador wanted to get the royal tour back on track. Tomorrow, Alvaro would be flying in from California and then they would board a cruise ship to Hawaii.

It was planned that security would return to normal. Only three FedSec agents would remain, but everyone else, including Alpha Squad -- including _Jim_ \-- would leave.

After the meetings had finished, Blair had searched for Jim, but he was told that Captain Ellison was in a high-level security debriefing and couldn't be disturbed. He hadn't seen Jim since this morning, just before leaving for the Arts Center. Watching the chaos unfold on the monitor from inside the van had been the most horrible and terrifying thing he'd ever had to endure. The absolute fear and helplessness that Blair had felt nearly overwhelmed him. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath until he saw Jim and his team emerge from the building and released a huge sigh of relief. He'd then collapsed onto his chair and dropped his head on his arms on the tabletop. All he kept thinking, over and over in his mind, was that Jim was alive. It was all over, and Jim was alive -- this time.

Blair leaned his head back against the sofa cushions and closed his eyes. No matter how many different ways he looked at their relationship, he always came to the same conclusion -- it was not going to work. Regardless of how deeply in love he was with Jim, he just couldn't do it. Couldn't sit back and watch the man he loved just up and leave on a mission, never knowing if he was safe or alive. He had thought about asking Jim to leave the army, but knew he couldn't do that. Jim loved his job too much. Blair had seen up-close just how much he loved the risk and lived for the danger.

The ringing of the phone brought Blair out of his musings. Sitting up, he reached for the phone on the side table and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, Chief."

"Jim," Blair breathed.

"Have you eaten?" Jim asked.

"No, not yet."

"Great," Jim said enthusiastically. "I'll pick up some food and be there in twenty minutes."

"See you then." Blair hung up the phone. He felt his heart sink at the thought that tonight was going to be his final time with Jim. Tomorrow they would both be heading in different directions. One more night together. One more night to last the rest of his life. One more night to permanently imprint Jim into his memory, then he'd say good-bye forever.

***

For the first time since he'd been coming to Blair's room, Jim knocked on the door instead of picking it and letting himself in. A second later, the door was pulled open and Blair flung himself at Jim. Balancing the bag of food in one hand, he wrapped his other hand around his lover and hugged him.

"You scared the crap out of me today," Blair whispered into Jim's ear.

"I know." Jim didn't apologize. Putting his life on the line was part of the job. He and his men were trained to take down a threat by whatever means necessary. 

Blair pulled back and looked up at him. A funny expression crossed his face then he grinned. "You got rid of the extensions," he stated and proceeded to run his fingers through Jim's short hair. "I like it much better this way."

"Good." Jim smiled. Their eyes met and heat flared between them. "Uh, Chief, could we take this inside?"

"Oh! Yeah, man. Come on in." Blair stepped back, opening the door wider to let Jim in.

"I got Greek." Jim held up the large bag of food.

Blair came up to him, took the bag out of his hands and placed it on the table. "Maybe we should have dinner later," Blair said huskily, placing his hands on Jim's chest. He gave a little push, and began to walk Jim backward until his legs hit the edge of the sofa. "Sit," Blair demanded, and Jim immediately lowered himself onto the cushions.

He watched as Blair moved to the other side of the room, dimmed the lights and turned on some soft music. As Blair slowly approached him, his hands went to the hem of his t-shirt and lifted it up, over his head, his curly hair tumbling onto his shoulders. Jim licked his lips, mesmerized at the sight of Blair's naked, lightly haired chest. His nipples were taut and the silver loop that adorned one of the rosy nubs glittered in the light.

The music was soft and sensual, and Blair began to sway his hips to the slow rhythm. He looked directly at Jim and smiled -- a slow, hot, sexy smile. Arousal hit Jim full force, and he shifted in his seat as he immediately became hard.

Blair kicked off his shoes and pulled the socks from his feet, then reached for his belt buckle. He slid the belt from the loops and dropped it to the floor beside the t-shirt. Next, Blair undid the snap on his jeans and slowly, ever so slowly, drew the zipper down. With a little tug, he lowered his pants, slipping them over his hips and ass, down strong, sturdy legs to his feet. 

Heat rushed through Jim as he realized Blair wore no underwear. His lover continued to dance sensuously to the music. Head tilted back. Eyes closed. Hands caressing his own sweat slicked skin. Fingers sliding through chest hair to pinch and rub at hardened nipples. Blair was the most erotic thing that he had ever seen.

Jim couldn't have looked away if his life had depended on it. He was totally and utterly hypnotized. Totally swept away. And extremely turned on. God, Blair was gorgeous. And Blair was his. All his. His forever, if he had anything to say about it. 

Blair moved even closer and bent over. Jim jumped slightly when hands rested on his knees and slowly pushed them apart. Lowering himself to the floor between Jim's spread legs, Blair reached out, unbuckling his belt and swiftly unfastening his jeans. Then Blair took Jim's cock in his hands, slid fingers up and down briefly before placing his lips on the head.

"Oh, God," Jim groaned loudly as his cock was engulfed by hot, moist heat. It felt good. It felt damn good, but he wanted more. "Blair, please…I need…"

"I know, lover."

Blair moved up on top of Jim, straddled his thighs and placed his hands on Jim's shoulders. Taking hold of Jim's penis, Blair started to lower himself, but Jim stopped him by gently grabbing hold of his hips.

"Blair," Jim panted. "I have to get you ready."

"No need. I've already prepared myself for you."

Once again, heat exploded through his body in a dizzying rush of exquisite pleasure. Just the thought of Blair slicking his fingers with gel and pushing a digit in and out of his own body was nearly enough to tip Jim over the edge.

Cupping his hands around Blair's ass, Jim guided Blair until his cock breached his opening. Jim then thrust up and fully sheathed himself deep into Blair's hot, wonderful tightness. The sensation was incredible. 

Blair groaned and clung to him, taking Jim's mouth in a scorching kiss. Then his lover began to move against him and with him. Gripping Blair's waist, Jim plunged himself in hard, again and again.

Profound emotions bubbled up from within Jim. God, how he loved this man. This passionate, fiery man who held Jim's heart, his very soul, in the palm of his hands. This was the one person he'd been waiting for all his life. And there was no way he'd ever be able to walk away -- not without having his heart ripped from his chest.

"Jim," Blair gasped. "More… harder… Yes!" he yelled as Jim rammed himself into Blair, giving him exactly what he asked for. He felt Blair's arms tightened around his neck, fingers clutching him as his lover cried out, "I love you! God, how I love you!"

Blair's words pushed Jim over the edge, and he exploded in a blinding white light of intense pleasure. "Love you, too," Jim returned in a ragged voice.

***

Slowly, Blair became aware of his surroundings. His head was resting on Jim's shoulder, a hand on the muscular, cloth-covered chest, and through his fingertips he could feel the rapid beating of Jim's heart.

He didn't want to move. Didn't want what they'd just shared to end. As long as they stayed right where they were, in this same position, these remarkable feelings wouldn't go away. God, he wanted Jim to stay. Wanted him with him, alive and safe, for the rest of his life.

Blair lifted his head and used his fingers to lightly touch Jim's beard-stubbled cheek. "I'm going to miss you when you're gone."

"What?" Jim froze, his hands halting their languorous caressing of Blair's back. "What makes you think I'm going anywhere?"

"Tomorrow I'm leaving for Hawaii and you'll be gone -- on another mission." 

Jim smiled softly and smoothed Blair's hair back from his face, kissing him gently on the lips. Then he reached inside the pocket of his jeans, pulled out a small, black velvet box and held it out to Blair.

"What is it?" Blair asked, his heart pounding.

"Open it and find out." 

Hesitantly, Blair took the box from Jim. He swallowed hard, breathed in a deep breath to steady himself, and slowly opened the lid. He froze, heart coming to a stop. There were two identical rings nestled in the black velvet. Wide silver rings. Masculine rings. With a beautiful intricate design.

"Jim," Blair breathed and closed his eyes against the pain he felt deep in his soul.

"I know I said I'd give you as much time as you needed to think about our relationship and this whole Sentinel/Guide thing. But what I feel for you is real. I love you, Blair, and I know you love me, too. And I want to make this thing we have between us more permanent. I'm committing myself to you as both a man and a Sentinel."

Blair sat silently, staring at the rings. He knew he should be ecstatic, overjoyed, thrilled beyond belief, but he didn't feel any of those things. Images kept flashing through his mind, and it wasn't of him and Jim happily married, it was of him at a funeral. Jim's funeral. He shivered suddenly, and it wasn't caused by the cool air of the room's air-conditioning. Jim must have felt it, because he began to run his hands up and down Blair's arms, attempting to warm him.

"Say something, Chief. The suspense is killing me."

"Jim, I…" Blair started, then cleared his throat. "When do you plan on retiring?"

Jim stared at him blankly. "What?"

"From the army," Blair explained. "When are you going to retire from active duty?"

With a frown, Jim replied, "Not for a long time. Probably another ten years at least."

Ten years? Blair's heart sank. Ten years of watching Jim leave on high-risk missions. Ten years of not knowing whether or not Jim would return. Ten years… If Jim lived that long.

"Blair, you need to understand. I'm career army. I love what I do."

"I know," Blair said sadly and looked away.

"Hey." Jim placed a finger under Blair's chin and lifted his head up. He could see that Jim was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by a loud beeping noise.

"What's that?" Blair asked.

"My pager," Jim said. "I'm sorry, but I have to get this."

Blair got up from Jim's lap and went into the bedroom to get his robe. As he pulled it on, he could hear Jim talking in the other room. 

"Ellison." There was a pause. "I'm still in Austin." Another pause. "Yes, sir. I understand." Jim glanced up at Blair when he came through the doorway. "Give me three minutes, and I'll call you right back." Jim smiled. "Yes. Thank you, sir."

Jim hung up, got to his feet and faced Blair. "I can get a week's leave," he said. "But I need to know right now if I should take it. I don't want to take it if we can't spend time together."

"Is that why you were called? To see if you wanted leave or not?"

"No." Jim shook his head. "I got called to report back to base in Washington. There's some kind of emergency, and they're calling in all of Special Forces Team Seven, including Alpha Squad."

Blair's breath caught in his throat. "What kind of emergency?" 

"I can't tell you."

"If we were in a committed relationship, could you tell me then?"

Jim sent him a remorseful look. "No, Chief. Not even then."

"So you just pack up and leave. Is that how it works?" Blair asked tightly. "I just sit around waiting and wondering if you'll ever come back."

"You need to believe that I'll always come back."

Briefly, Blair closed his eyes. "But you can't guarantee that." 

"You know I can't." Jim reached for him, but Blair took a step away and moved to stand in front of the balcony doors, keeping his back to Jim so he couldn't see the look on his face. This fear -- this emptiness -- was exactly what he didn't want to spend the next ten, or more, years feeling.

"I have to officially take leave, or check in with the rest of the team," Jim said again. "So, I need to know what to do. Can you the get time off, too?"

"No." Blair shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I need to be on the cruise ship with Alvaro tomorrow." He could feel Jim's eyes on the back of his head and sensed his hesitation before Jim went back to the phone.

"Yeah, it's Ellison. Count me in."

Blair stared out the window wondering exactly what it was Jim would be doing. Was it something that could get him killed? God, he hated this. Not knowing where Jim was going or what he'd be doing was awful.

"Right," Jim said to whoever was on the phone. "I'll be ready." Through the reflection in the glass, Blair saw Jim hang up then come a little closer. "I need to take a quick shower," Jim said, "There's a car coming for me in ten minutes."

Blair spun around to face Jim. "Ten minutes!"

"That's how it works, Sandburg. I get a call. I leave. Immediately. Sometimes we get prep time, but that's rare. Let me take a shower, and we can talk while I'm getting dressed."

Blair felt numb while he stood there watching Jim walk away from him. The dread he felt deep inside was beyond anything he ever imagined. He wanted to tell Jim -- to beg Jim -- to take the leave. He wanted to do whatever it took to keep Jim from going on this unnamed, unidentified, probably dangerous mission.

But then what?

Once the week of leave was up, he'd be right back where he started. Jim would be gone again. Gone to wherever duty called, no matter the danger, no matter the risk. The man he loved would leave him alone, to watch the clock, waiting and praying for Jim to return -- alive.

No. Blair couldn't stand that.

He heard the water shut off and moved to the doorway of the bedroom. A moment later Jim came out of the bathroom, toweling himself dry. Blair watched silently as Jim pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and then his jeans.

"So," Jim said, rubbing the towel over his hair while glancing at Blair. "Tell me when you'll be done with the tour, and I'll try to arrange leave."

"Won't be for another three weeks," Blair said. "After the cruise, there's still a few more cities we need to visit, then we'll head back to California and on to Andorra from there."

"Okay," Jim replied, slipping into the shirt and doing up the buttons. "I can always meet you in Andorra. Just let me know the exact dates you'll-"

Blair shook his head and turned away from Jim. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Then _you_ tell me, Chief?" Jim said very quietly. "What _is_ a good idea?"

The room became silent, and he knew without turning around that Jim was standing there, his handsome face unsmiling, blue eyes intense as he stared at Blair.

"I don't have any good ideas," Blair said quietly.

"Shit," Jim hissed. "You don't want to marry me." It was a statement, not a question.

Blair didn't move. Didn't say anything. What the hell could he possibly say?

Jim laughed -- a harsh, bitter sound that tore at Blair's heart. "Hell, from the sound of it, you don't even want to see me again."

Blair turned around, but the ice in Jim's eyes kept him frozen to his spot.

"God, I am such an idiot. I should have known better. I actually let myself believe that you wanted more from me than some short, steamy affair."

"Jim, you don't understand." Blair was desperate to explain. "I can't live the way you want me to live. I couldn't stand it." Jim walked away, and Blair went after him, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "I can't just pretend to fit into your world, because I know I won't!" 

Jim pulled out of Blair's grasp, staring long and hard at him, and he could see the hurt and anger in Jim's eyes. With a shake of his head, Jim stalked away, snatching up the velvet box from the coffee table as he headed to the door. Quickly, Blair blocked his path, laying a hand on Jim's chest. 

"Please, try to understand," Blair begged. "I do love you… but I… I can't marry you."

Jim studied him for a moment then his eyes softened ever so slightly. "You know I always thought if two people shared a love -- a powerful love -- together they could overcome anything." Reaching out, Jim touched Blair's face, brushing a thumb across his lips. "Can't we at least try to work this out?"

For a second, as Blair gazed into Jim's eyes, he believed they could. But then Jim's pager beeped again, and the fear came rushing back.

Jim had to go.

Now.

Reality hit Blair hard, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He turned and stepped away from the door.

"Guess I've got my answer," Jim said bitterly.

Blair kept his back to Jim, unable to bear to watch him leave.

"I thought you were much tougher than this, Blair," Jim said, a catch in his voice. 

Blair listened as the door opened then clicked quietly as it closed behind Jim.

Sinking to his knees on the carpet, Blair buried his face in his hands and for the first time in a very long time, he cried.

***

The so-called "emergency" had been nothing more than an exercise for Special Forces Team Seven to see how prepared they were. The top brass wanted to see exactly how long it would take for Team Seven to get from various locations in the U.S. to their home base in Fort Lewis, Washington.

The men in Alpha Squad were avoiding Jim. They were keeping their distance, which wasn't surprising, considering Jim's dark mood. 

Charlie was the only one who ignored Jim's mood and stayed nearby as they completed their paperwork on the Andorrian Royal Tour operation. His friend never said a word, but Jim knew Charlie was ready to lend a sympathetic ear.

"Ellison. Phone call," said a young, male office clerk. "From Texas."

Looking up from his desk, Charlie met Jim's eyes. Only one person would be calling from Texas.

Blair.

Why the hell was he calling Jim?

Maybe Blair wanted to say he'd changed his mind.

There was no real privacy in the office, and Jim had to take the call at the administrator's desk, with the man sitting not three feet away.

"Ellison," Jim said into the phone.

"Jim?" Blair asked, sounding surprised to hear his voice. "I didn't think I'd actually get through to you. I thought I'd be able to leave a message."

_Great,_ Jim thought. _He didn't actually want to speak to me. Then why the hell had he called?_

"You want me to hang up?" Jim asked coldly. "You can call back and leave a message."

"No, of course not." Blair hesitated before saying, "I just didn't think you'd be there. I thought you were off shooting bad guys or something."

Despite the ache in his chest, Jim smiled. "No. I shot the bad guy yesterday. Today I get to do the paperwork about it."

"Oh." There was a brief pause. "But I thought you had to go on a mission."

"It ended up being an exercise. The brass wanted to see how fast Team Seven could get back to Washington. They do that sometimes. It's supposed to keep us on our toes."

"I'm glad," Blair said.

"I'm not," Jim stated flatly. "I was hoping they were sending us to South America. We're still no closer to nailing Vargas and his group. I was looking forward to tracking down the son-of-a-bitch and having it out with him once and for all."

"Oh," Blair said very quietly, and then he was silent. 

Jim tapped his finger on the desk, waiting for Blair to say more, when he didn't, Jim said, "Sandburg? You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." When he spoke again, his voice was tentative. "I… um… I was calling to pass on some news I received early this morning. Mrs. Freeman, Suzie's mother, called from Mission Bay. Suzie… Suzie died late last night."

Jim closed his eyes and swore.

"Mrs. Freeman wanted to thank you again," Blair continued with a shaky voice. "She wanted to thank both of us for our visit. It meant so much to Suzie."

Jim held the phone tightly, feeling six pairs of eyes watching him curiously.

"I thought you'd want to know." Blair took a deep breath. "I have to go. The cruise ship leaves in less than an hour." 

"Thanks for calling and letting me know," Jim said.

There was more silence, but Jim knew Blair was still on the line, he could hear the slightly elevated heartbeat. 

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Blair said hesitantly. "About you and me. About it not working out. I- I never meant to hurt you."

There was no way in hell Jim could talk about it. Especially not here in the middle of all these people. He couldn't just stand here and talk about the fact that his heart had been smashed into a million pieces.

"Was there something else you wanted?" Jim asked, his voice tight.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm great," he lied. "I'm getting on with my life. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to it."

Without waiting to hear if Blair would answer, Jim hung up the phone. He turned and walked away, past Charlie, past the guard at the front desk. He left the building and walked down the road to a secluded area in the woods. He sat down, leaned his back against a tree, dropped his head in his hands and released a long groan of despair.

***

Jim sat at the bar, nursing a beer and trying to ignore the sappy love song playing on the jukebox. He looked up into the mirror behind the bar and saw General Landry crossing the room, heading in his direction. 

The general sat down on a stool next to Jim. "Rumor has it you survived your mission."

"Yes, sir," Jim answered.

Landry glanced down the bar and nodded to Charlie, who was seated on Jim's left. "Lieutenant."

Charlie nodded back and held up a beer in salute. "Good to see you, General."

The general turned back to Jim. "Hear you and your boys had a little tangle with Ramos Salazar."

Jim glanced at the older man. "Yes, sir."

"I also heard the rumor is Salazar had been disassociated with Vargas Matos for quite some time," General Landry said.

Jim shrugged and exchanged a look with Charlie. "Salazar wasn't able to verify FedSec's information after we had it out with him. He was a little too dead to talk."

"There's something I can't figure out," Landry said, "If Salazar was not working with Vargas, why did earlier FedSec reports state that Vargas' terrorist group was interested in Prince Alvaro's tour schedule?"

"FedSec isn't exactly known for their flawless operations," Jim said and took a sip of his beer. "It's very possible someone made a mistake."

"I don't know, Jimmy." The general scratched his head through his grey hair. "I have a gut feeling that the mistake is in assuming the reports are true about the rift between Salazar and Vargas. I think there's still some connection between them. They were way too close for way too long." Landry paused. "Why would Salazar, Vargas' number-one sharpshooter, set himself up as a suicide assassin? He must have known he'd never stand a chance getting out of the building alive. And something else that doesn't fit -- he didn't even hit his target."

Jim took a long swallow of his beer, thinking back to the shooting and how the bullet had missed him -- both times. Jim put his bottle down and looked from the general to Charlie. "Why would a sharpshooter with Salazar's skill miss an easy target in broad daylight?"

"It's possible you moved out of the way a split second before the bullet could hit you," Charlie replied.

"No," Jim said. "I didn't move at all. Salazar deliberately missed me… Shit," Jim stood up fast. "The only reason Salazar missed me is because this whole damn assassination attempt was a diversion, set up to make FedSec relax their security around the prince." Jim turned to the general. "Sir, how many FedSec agents are with the royal tour now that the alleged danger has passed?"

"Three, I believe," Landry answered, then leaned closer to Jim." Jimmy, what are you thinking?"

"That the _real_ terrorist attack hasn't happened yet," Jim replied.

"Damn." Charlie spoke up. "The cruise ship."

"Right." Jim nodded. "With only three agents onboard, that cruise ship is a terrorist's dream come true."

"I need a phone. Right now!" General Laundry called to the bartender. The young man moved fast and placed a phone on the bar top. The general picked up the receiver and began to dial.

"I'm going to page the squad," Charlie quietly said to Jim.

"Better make it all of Team Seven," Jim told him in a low voice. "And while you're at it, alert the commander of Team Eight and put in a request to have them on standby. If this is going down, it's going to be big, and we'll need all the manpower we can get."

Charlie nodded and headed in the direction of the front door.

"Jimmy," the general said, covering his hand over the receiver. "I got through to the naval base in Texas. They're trying to hail the cruise ship now… Hang on." He lifted his hand away from the mouthpiece. "Yes?" He paused, listening. "They're not?" Landry looked at Jim, his eyes filled with concern. "The ship is not responding. The base has them on radar, and they've gone seriously off course." He shook his head, his mouth tight with anger. "Jimmy, I do believe we have ourselves a crisis situation."

***

_God, this can't be happening,_ Blair thought as he watched a second helicopter land on the deck of the cruise ship.

Only four hours ago, everything had been perfectly normal aboard _The Empress of the Sea._ He had been having lunch with Senator Kinsley and his staff as well as one of the FedSec agents, a man called Mark Metzger. Alvaro had opted to have his meal delivered to his deluxe suite stateroom, which was fine with Blair. Even though Alvaro was nothing like Jim, just seeing the prince's face was a reminder of everything he'd given up. Blair didn't think it was possible to miss another person so badly. He felt sad and empty inside -- hopelessly devoid of life.

And then the first helicopter had landed on the sundeck. Twelve men, dressed in black and carrying automatic rifles, jumped out and swarmed across the deck of the ship, declaring _The Empress_ was now under their control and all passengers were their hostages.

_The Empress_ was a small cruise ship, with a capacity of only eighty people, including the crew. Fifty-three men and twenty-seven women. They were all now standing on deck, watching as the second helicopter's blades slowed to a stop. No one made a sound as the doors opened, and five men got out.

One of them, the only one wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, smiled a greeting to the silent crowd. He had a wide, almost friendly smile, thick black hair with a beard to match. Without saying a word, the man motioned to two other terrorists, who proceeded to drag the three FedSec agents out in front of everyone.

The agents' hands had been secured behind their backs and as the terrorists forced them down onto their knees, they fought to keep their balance.

"Who are you?" Agent Metzger demanded. "What do you-"

"Silence!" the jean clad man yelled. He then pulled out a revolver from his belt and shot all three agents in the head.

Ambassador Young's wife, who was standing beside Blair, screamed and began to cry. 

"Oh, God," Blair whispered in shock. He stared at the deep red blood pooling beneath the agents' bodies. They were dead. In a blink of an eye, their life had been taken from them. The agent, Mark Metzger, had just had a new baby girl. He had shown Blair pictures during lunch. Mark had been so proud, and so in love with his beautiful wife. And now… Blair shut his eyes and looked away.

"That was a little demonstration, just so you know our guns are very real. My name is Vargas Matos," he said in a softly accented voice. "These men," Vargas gestured to the other terrorists around them, "work for me. Do as they say, and you will all be fine." That almost friendly smile turned nasty. "Of course, there are no guarantees."

Vargas walked over to Alvaro, who was standing slightly apart from the rest of them and flanked by two terrorists. "So, Your Royalness," Vargas said, swooping low in a mocking bow, "we finally meet."

Alvaro stood frozen in place. His face was deathly pale, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

Turning to his men, Vargas said, "Take His Royal Highness to the bridge, and the other hostages below. Let us see what a crown prince is worth these days." He clamped a hand down on Alvaro's shoulder. "I think it may be enough to get my long-range missiles. What do you think, _Your Highness?_ " Alvaro's mouth opened, but no words came out. He just continued to stand there, his body visibly shaking. Vargas threw his head back and laughed. It was a horrible, evil sound.

***

Blair sat in the dining room with the rest of the hostages. They were silent, clearly terrified about what the terrorists would do next. Alvaro had been brought back from the bridge, but he sat apart from the others, his eyes staring straight ahead with a blank look on his face.

Resting his elbow on the table, Blair dropped his head onto his hand and wondered if he'd ever see Jim again. What he wouldn't give to have those strong arms around him right now. But Jim wasn't here. He was in Washington. _Would he even know about the hijacking? And if he does know, would he care about me in particular?_ Blair wondered. _He'd been so cold and distant during our conversation on the phone._

The door to the dining room banged open, making everyone jump then tensed as Vargas came in. From the look on the man's face, Blair knew the incident was escalating.

"Men on my left, women on my right," Vargas said, drawing an imaginary line down the middle of the room with the muzzle of his gun.

Terrified, the room's occupants stared at the terrorists, fear making them stay frozen in their seats.

"Now!" Vargas commanded, pointing his revolver into the crowd.

Immediately, they all moved to their allocated positions, with the women huddling closely together, some of them crying.

"This is how it is going to work," Vargas said pleasantly. "We will bring one of you up to the bridge, to the radio room, where you will talk to your government. You are going to convince them to give us what we want, _and_ to keep their distance. Also, you will tell them, that starting in one hour, we will begin eliminating hostages. One each hour on the hour. First one man and then one woman, and so on, and so on." He waved his gun around in the air.

"You can't do that!" one of the male hostages, who was standing next to Vargas, yelled out.

Without even blinking, Vargas turned and fired his gun, shooting the man in the chest. His body crumpled to the floor, his eyes wide and not blinking. Several people screamed and some fell to the ground, covering their heads. Blair turned away, sickened. Just like that, another person was dead.

"Anyone else have any objections?" Vargas asked amiably. 

Except for the sounds of quiet sobbing, all the hostages remained silent.

"Good." Vargas gave a quick nod. "Take him." 

Blair shook his head and took a step back when he realized the maniac meant him. 

***

Jim and his men were in the briefing room of the _USS Fairfax_ , trying to work out a plan to get Special Forces Team Seven on _The Empress_ , and the hostages safely off.

"Infrared surveillance shows the hostages are being held in the ship's dining room," Charlie reported. He pointed to the location on a schematics sheet of the cruise ship that was spread out on table. "I think a silent op will work best. We can approach at dusk, going in under their radar with the inflatable boats, climb up _The Empress._ We quietly take out any guards and bring the hostages out without the terrorists even knowing." 

"Once everyone is clear of the cruise ship," Mack said with a smile, "we can have the pleasure of kicking their asses all the way to hell."

"We'll need air support," Jim said. "At the first sign of trouble, Vargas is going to take off in one of those choppers on deck. I don't want him slipping away. Fighters need to be standing by, ready to shoot him down if necessary."

"The first thing you need," General Landry said, coming into the room, "is the go-ahead from the president."

There was a brief knock on the door before the commander of the _Fairfax_ entered. "We have a report from _The Empress._ Another hostage is dead. The terrorists say that they will kill one hostage every hour, alternating between men and women, until they get either twenty-five million dollars or a shipment of long-range missiles."

Jim could hardly breathe. Another hostage was dead. God help that bastard Vargas if he so much as touched Blair. 

The phone rang and Bob picked it up. "Brown. Yes, sir," he said then held the receiver out to the General. "Sir, it's for you. The President."

Landry took the phone. "Yes, Mr. President?" He listened a second before nodding to Jim. "It's a go."

***

Jim met Charlie's eyes in the dimness of the corridor outside the dining hall. They both wore headsets with mics, but at such close proximity to the terrorists, they remained silent. Jim nodded once and Charlie returned it with a brief nod of his own.

They were going in.

The door was open a crack, and they knew from looking in that there were two men guarding the door. Both guards were carrying rifles, and they had their backs to Jim and Charlie, their stance relaxed and unsuspecting of any trouble.

Jim pointed to himself and then to the guard on the left.

Charlie nodded. 

Jim held up three fingers, two fingers, one…

Pushing through the door, Jim and Charlie burst into the room, moving together as one unit. The guard on the left spun around, bringing up his gun. Jim fired once, his shot muffled by his silencer. He caught the man as he fell, turning to see Charlie lower the other guard to the floor.

The hostages didn't move, didn't make a sound. They just stared in shock. To Jim's sensitive sense of smell, the entire room reeked of fear.

"Dining room secure. Get some backup down here," Charlie said into his mic before turning to address the hostages. "We're Army Special Forces, and we're here to take you home." 

While Charlie explained, Jim searched the crowd for Blair. Not seeing him, he dialed up his hearing, trying to pick up the unique sound of Blair's heartbeat and knew immediately that Blair wasn't in the dining room. The sudden noise of voices, questioning and demanding, caused Jim to bring his hearing back to normal again.

"We are not out of danger yet, folks," Charlie was saying. "I need you all to remain silent and to move quickly when we tell you to."

"Blair's not here. I tried listening for his heartbeat, but I can't find it." Jim said quietly to Charlie, his voice cracking slightly with the effort to stay calm.

"Just because he's not in this room doesn't necessarily mean he's dead," Charlie whispered before turning to the crowd. "Does anyone know the whereabouts of Blair Sandburg?"

To Jim's surprise, Alvaro stepped forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim could see a few people doing a double-take as they watched him and the prince. "They took him to the bridge. They are going to kill him at six o'clock. You must help him."

Jim checked his watch. Shit! Five fifty-three. He was running out of time.

Seeing Bob and Mack arrive, Jim said quickly to Charlie, "You're in charge of Alvaro. I'm going after Blair." Holding up his MP5 submachine gun, he rushed from the room and headed back down the corridor at a run. 

***

Blair was on the bridge with Vargas, and in an attempt to ignore the madman, he looked out the window at the setting sun. _My last sunset,_ Blair thought bleakly. _I'll never see Jim again. I won't get to enjoy his beautiful smile or hear his contagious laughter. I'll never get the chance to tell him how wrong I was, or how much I want to be with him._ He loved Jim so damn much. With sudden realization, he knew it didn't matter that Jim was in the army. It was how Jim was, what he did. It was probably one of the reasons he fell in love with Jim. If by being in Special Forces meant Jim had to go on dangerous missions, so be it. Blair would just have to learn how to cope. 

But he'd never get a chance to do that now. Because of his own fears, he'd pushed Jim away. Given up the few moments of happiness before he'd left. Given up a lingering kiss good-bye. Given up a phone call that could have been filled with "I love you's" instead of stiff apologies and brisk regrets.

Wasn't it funny that he was the one who was going to end up dying a violent and horrible death? Blair almost laughed out loud at the irony of it all.

"Right now, I bet you are wondering how you ever got into this mess," Vargas said, offering Blair a cigarette.

Blair shook his head.

"It is okay. You can smoke if you want. After all, it is not like you need to worry about dying of lung cancer, right?" Vargas laughed.

Blair ignored him.

Vargas came closer and slowly brushed his fingers against Blair's cheek. Blair pulled his head away, repulsed, but Vargas just laughed again.

"It is a shame to kill one as beautiful as you." Blair shuddered in disgust when Vargas' eyes raked appreciatively over his body. "Maybe I should keep you for myself." 

Vargas pulled Blair out of his chair, and because his hands were tied behind his back, he lost his balance and fell back against the control panel. The terrorist moved quickly, and placing hands on either side of Blair, pinned him in. Suddenly, his hair was grabbed tightly and his head abruptly yanked back. Vargas covered his mouth over Blair's, taking his lips in a hard kiss. A hand slid down his chest, over his stomach, then lower, to cup and rub at his genitals. Against his thigh, Blair could feel the other man's hard-on, and he began to struggle even harder.

When Vargas finally released his mouth, Blair spat, "Get the fuck off me!"

"Good." Vargas smiled. "You are a fighter." 

"And you’re a sick son-of-a-bitch!"

"There is nothing I love more than breaking a man." Moving a hand up to Blair's shoulder, near his neck, Vargas squeezed the soft area. Blair cried out as white hot pain shot into his head, down his back and through his arm, causing his vision to grey. "Oh, yes," Vargas grinned. "I am definitely going to love breaking you, pretty." The terrorist stepped back, and Blair fell to his knees, breathing heavily. "Consider it your lucky day. I will spare your life and take you with me."

"He won't be going anywhere with you," someone said from the doorway.

Vargas spun around at the same time that Blair looked up. 

Jim stood in the doorway, his MP5 aimed at Vargas.

The sudden rush of emotions that flowed through Blair was intense. He had never been so glad to see anyone in his entire life. 

"What kind of trick is this?" Vargas asked, staring at Jim. "You look like the prince, yet you are not him."

"No, I'm not. Now, hands up, Vargas." Jim smiled, but it held no humor. "I've waited a long time for this." Before he could say anymore, Vargas went for his sidearm.

As they opened fire, Blair dropped the rest of the way to the floor. The noise was deafening, and the heady scent of gunpowder filled the air. And through it all, he kept praying, _Please, God, don't let Jim get killed._ Then just as quickly as the shooting started, it stopped. Seconds later, Jim was by his side on the floor, pulling Blair into his arms.

"Blair! Are you all right?"

"I've had better days." Blair said shakily before shifting back slightly. "Are _you_ all right?" He looked Jim over for any signs of bullet holes and blood. Despite the bullets that had been flying only moments ago, Jim looked to be all in one piece.

"I'm fine," Jim answered with a half smile.

"God, Jim! I can't believe you're here!" 

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Jim asked. He pulled a dangerous-looking knife from his belt and carefully slit the ropes that were holding Blair's arms behind his back. Blair groaned as his shoulders protested against the sudden movement, and he carefully rubbed the reddened skin of his wrists. "Answer me, Chief. I heard what he was saying. Please tell me I got here in time," Jim said, sounding distressed.

"I'm okay. He didn't do anything," Blair said too quickly, not looking at Jim.

"Don't lie to me. He did something. I can smell his pheromones, and his scent is all over you," Jim said heatedly. In contrast to his anger, his fingers were gentle when they touched Blair's swollen, bruised lips.

"He kissed me," Blair replied, unable to stop the tremble in his voice. "Grabbed me and pushed himself against me, but I swear to you, Jim, that's all he did."

"It's okay." Jim tugged Blair back into his arms, kissing him on the temple. "We've got to get moving. Now. I can hear some of Vargas' men coming. They'll be here in about thirty seconds."

Jim got up, helped Blair to his feet and together they moved toward the door. Glancing over his shoulder, Blair looked at the man who had terrorized him only moments ago, the man who murdered four innocent people on this ship in cold blood. 

"Is he dead?" Blair asked.

Jim gave a quick nod. "Yes."

"Good." And Blair meant it. 

"Come on. This way." Jim led the way into the corridor. "Can you run?" Blair nodded, and they set off at an easy jog.

"I want you to know," Blair whispered, knowing Jim would hear him, "that I love you. I thought I'd never get the chance to tell you that again. And I know we're not out of danger, so I wanted to make sure you know, just in case…"

"When this is all over," Jim said quietly as he slowed down to peer around a corner, "and we're safely back on shore, you're going to have to get used to me coming around. You don't have to marry me, or become my Guide permanently. But, I'm telling you right now, I have no intention of letting this _thing_ between us drop. Do you follow?"

"Yeah, I follow." Blair couldn't help but smile. He didn't say anything more when Jim held up a hand.

"No, Charlie," Jim said into the microphone of his headset. "I don't need you to come after us. I need you to stay with the prince," he ordered. "But make damn sure there's a boat waiting for me and Blair at the bottom of that rope at the bow of this ship. Copy?" Jim paused. "Good." He glanced at Blair over his shoulder. "Let's go."

They hurried down a flight of stairs and ran along another series of corridors which eventually led them out to the gaming area of the ship. Suddenly, from somewhere on the ship, there was a loud, swooshing noise.

"What the hell was that?" Blair asked. But Jim was silent, listening to what the voices were saying over his headset.

"Roger that," Jim said in to his mic. "Return fire," he ordered then turned to Blair. "The terrorists are using rocket launchers to fire artillery at the hostages." Jim listened again. "We're down below, outside the main dining room. I'll keep you informed of our position." A pause. "Fire now. Do you copy? Fire _now_!"

Jim grabbed Blair and quickly hauled him over to a wall, pushed him down to the floor and shielded him with his body. "Hang on, Chief. In three… two… one-"

A deafening explosion roared around them, violently shaking the floor beneath Blair. The missile from the _USS Fairfax_ hit its mark, rocking the entire ship hard. If felt to Blair as though _The Empress_ lifted out of the water and slammed back down again. 

They got to their feet, and Jim took hold of Blair's hand, pulling him with him down the hallway. "We're clear of the dining area. Heading in the direction of the bow." Jim spoke into his headset. 

They came to a flight of stairs that led up toward the deck. Blair stopped when Jim whispered for him to wait. Slowly, Jim moved up the steps and peeked over the edge. He motioned with his hand for Blair to follow him.

"Heading toward the recreation deck," Jim said into his mic. 

They moved onto the deck, staying hidden by the shadows. 

"This isn't going to work," Jim whispered. "We need to find another way off." He looked around, smiled and took Blair's hand again. "We're heading to the chopper deck. Distance is seventy-five feet," he said to whoever was listening in on the headset. "Keep those missiles coming, but keep them clear of us."

After glancing around, Jim led the way toward the helicopter. They were only thirty feet away now, and Blair couldn't believe they were going make it without getting caught.

Then all hell broke loose.

A small group of six terrorists suddenly came out of nowhere. 

Jim raised his gun and began firing as he yelled, "Blair! Run! Get to the chopper!"

As Blair ran, he looked back over his shoulder to make sure Jim was behind him. Jim continued to return fire, his bullets taking out three of the terrorists and driving the other three away. Unfortunately, the sound of gunfire drew more of Vargas' men toward them. 

The door to the closest chopper was open, and Blair was about to jump in when he saw Jim stumble and go down on one knee. To his horror, he realized Jim had been hit. Blair ran back to his side, grabbed Jim's arm and helped him to his feet. Together they made it to the helicopter, and Blair was pushed inside. By the time he clambered into the front passenger seat, Jim had the bird started, and a second later they were in the air.

"We're clear of _The Empress_ ," Jim rasped into his microphone. "Launch a full scale attack."

"Jim! You've been shot. Tell them you need a medic standing by when we land," Blair said.

"We're not going to make it that far."

"What?" Blair swung his head around and that's when he saw it. Dark black smoke billowing up from the back of the helicopter. "Oh, God," he whispered, his heart racing.

"Charlie, you there?" Jim asked into his headset. "Good. I'm going to bring this bird in low, and Blair's going to jump out into the water. You copy?"

"Like hell. I'm not going anywhere without you," Blair said.

"I'll be right behind you. But I'm not going to ditch this chopper until you're clear."

Blair stared at Jim, unsure what to do. He didn't want to leave him.

"Go!" Jim yelled.

"Jim-"

"Please, Blair. I can't hold it steady much longer."

"Promise me you'll be right behind me."

Jim nodded. "I promise."

Blair pushed open the door, paused and met Jim's eyes. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you." 

Looking down into the dark water, Blair's body trembled with fear. But his fear of Jim dying from his bullet wound outweighed the fear for his own life. Inhaling deeply, he squeezed his eyes shut and jumped.

***

Blackness surrounded Blair. The water squeezed his chest as he fought his way to the surface. Hands suddenly grabbed him, tugging him upward. As his head emerged from the water, he gasped, sucking in a lungful of precious air. 

"It's okay, Blair. I've got you," said Charlie's familiar voice.

Blair was pulled into a small rubber boat and a blanket was wrapped around him. He gave a grateful nod to Charlie before turning to watch the helicopter. It hovered just above the water, the whirling blades turning the ocean into choppy waves. The cloud of smoke emanating from the engine looking much darker and thicker than it had before.

"God, why won't he jump?" Blair's voice trembled and he clutched his blanket more tightly around him. 

Blair gasped, his heart in his throat as the chopper jerked forward and down, sending it spiraling into the water. It hit the water hard, sinking fast beneath the waves, taking Jim with it. 

"No!" Blair cried.

"I'm going in after him," Charlie yelled. "Get this boat closer!"

***

Gripping tightly to the edge of the rubber boat, Blair stared at the dark, churning water where Charlie had disappeared. Time seemed to slow, making the minutes that ticked by feel more like hours. Just when Blair thought all hope was lost, two bodies erupted from beneath the surface of the water. The boat roared to life, quickly maneuvering closer to Jim and Charlie. The two men were pulled on board, and Blair watched as the medics cut away Jim's wet clothing. A pressure bandage was applied to the bloody wound on his side and an IV attached to his arm before he was covered with a thick blanket.

"He'll be okay, Blair," Charlie comforted from his seat next to Blair. "He's strong."

Blair nodded, his gaze never leaving Jim, who seemed to be floating in and out of consciousness.

"Blair," Jim called weakly, his hand reaching out.

Blair threw off his blanket and rushed to kneel next to Jim's side, taking his hand. "I'm right here, Jim."

"Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere," Blair said, pressing his lips to the top of Jim's fingers.

"Good." A small smile spread across Jim's tired face. "I- I need you."

Blair touched the side of Jim's face while blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I need you, too."

The boat pulled up alongside the _USS Fairfax._ Jim was placed onto a stretcher, and Blair had to let go of his hand so Jim could be hoisted up and onto the deck. Blair wrapped his arms around his trembling body, suddenly feeling forlorn, but then Charlie was by his side, moving him forward and helping him up onboard the ship. Another blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, and he was quickly ushered inside.

***

The sound of voices reached Jim's ears, pulling him back to awareness. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking against the bright lights. He shifted slightly and groaned when pain shot up his side. He squeezed his eyes shut. Damn, but he hurt like hell.

"Jim?" 

Jim opened his eyes again to see Blair standing over him, concern written all over his face. "Hey, Chief," he whispered hoarsely. He throat was dry, and he tried to moisten his lips with his tongue.

Charlie stepped into his field of vision, lifting a cup of water to his mouth. "Better?" he asked after Jim had taken a soothing sip.

"Yeah. Thanks," Jim replied.

"Doc says you're going to be fine," Charlie explained. "The bullet passed through your body without hitting any vital organs. You did lose quite a bit of blood, so you're going to feel tired for a few days."

Jim nodded "Yeah, I know the drill." He turned back to gaze up at Blair who smiled. Jim returned the smile and asked, "Did you mean it? What you said back on the chopper?"

"Uh… I'd better head out." Charlie moved toward the doorway.

"Charlie, wait." Blair got up from where he had been perched on the edge of Jim's bed and stepped up to Charlie. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life -- for saving Jim's life."

Charlie held up a hand and shook his head. "Was just doing my job."

"Yeah, well, I still wanted to say thanks and to let you know how grateful I am." Blair held out his hand, and Charlie shook it.

"Take care of him." Charlie smiled.

Blair grinned, but his tone was serious when he said, "I will, if you will."

"I'd die for him," Charlie replied earnestly. A look of understanding passed between them, and Blair gave a brief nod. They shook hands once again, then Charlie turned away. "See you later, El." With a wave directed at Jim, he left the room.

Returning to the bed, Blair sat back down on the mattress near Jim's hip. Jim sighed happily when Blair leaned forward to gently kiss him on the lips. "I meant every word," Blair said softly. "I want to spend my life with you."

"You understand that I'm not going to change? I can't leave the army." 

Blair silenced him with another kiss. "I know. It's part of who you are and one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you." Blair smiled when Jim reached up to brush his finger's along his cheek. "I won't quit my job. I'll travel and work -- the same as you. I will, however, move back to the States to make it easier for us to be together whenever you get leave."

"I own a loft in Cascade -- in the city. If you like it, you can move in there. And when we want to get away, we can always use the cabin in the mountains."

"I'd love that." Blair grinned happily.

Jim slid his fingers into the soft, curly hair and as he gazed into those deep-blue eyes, he saw the last of Blair's reservations drain away, leaving only love -- a pure and powerful love.

***

_Epilogue:_   
_Cascade Mountains, Washington_

Blair stirred and opened his eyes. The curtains to the bedroom window had been left open, allowing the early morning sun to bask the room in a soft, warm glow. Carefully, so as not to wake Jim, Blair slipped from the bed and went to stand by the window, gazing out through the dawn at the mist-covered lake. Lifting his left hand, Blair looked at the ring on his finger and smiled. His stomach did an excited flip at the thought of all that he and Jim had shared during the past twenty-four hours

They'd had a commitment ceremony yesterday afternoon. The event had taken place on the beach in front of Jim's cabin. In the warm sunshine, surrounded by a few friends and family, they'd pledged their love to one another. 

Then in the evening, after everyone had left, Blair had led Jim into the bedroom. He'd slowly undressed his lover and pushed him down onto the bed before removing his own clothes. Blair had covered Jim's body with his own and took his mouth in a long, passion-filled kiss. Their bodies slid back and forth, slowly building their arousal. And when the hot, sensual pleasure had intensified to a searing fire, Blair had quickly and lovingly prepared Jim before he pushed himself deep inside his lover -- finally completing the bond that would forge them together for eternity as Sentinel and Guide. 

"Chief?" Jim's voice brought him back from his thoughts.

Blair turned and answered with a smile, "Right here."

"What are you doing way over there?"

"Was just thinking." Blair climbed onto the bed, snuggling into Jim's embrace. "Well, remembering, actually."

"Regrets?"

"No way, man." Blair grinned. "Not on your life."

"Good." Jim grabbed Blair, flipped him onto his back and covered him with his body. Their eyes met and the palpable connection sizzling between them. "I love you," Jim whispered with a warm smile and leaned down to kiss Blair. It was a long, slow, lazy kiss -- a kiss that promised forever.

A sweet, dizzying happiness flowed through Blair and as he smiled up into sky-blue eyes filled with love, he knew that he'd found himself a true prince.

THE END


End file.
